A Portal to the Hellmouth
by CiceroTjones
Summary: In a world Voldemort destroyed in his maniacal quest for domination, Harry Potter steps through the mislabeled Veil of Death and into a different universe filled with vampires, demons and a slayer.
1. Chapter 1

The telephone booth looked pristine among the ruins of London, a glaring red reminder of what was lost. No, not lost, thought 20 year old Harry Potter. Taken. Taken by Voldemort.

It's doubtful the American who pressed the button that launched the missiles knew Voldemort created the Scottish flu. All it took the bastard was an epidemiologist under the imperious curse tasked with "designing a virus to kill all the muggles" to end it all.

Today, everyone in the world knew that Voldemort was behind it. Of course the world's population consisted of 47 marked death eaters, Voldemort and Harry Potter, so that isn't exactly surprising.

When Voldemort went muggle in his third, increasingly desperate, effort to win a lost war, he etched-out the ultimate pyrrhic victory. His Scottish Flu killed all the muggles but it didn't end there. It killed all the wizards and witches as well… and all the mammals, the birds. Not even the magical creatures were spared. There were no centaurs in the forbidden forest or house-elves tending to the needs of the survivors. If any of the goblins still lived after they sealed off Gringotts and every other goblin bank, nobody would know. The 49 current inhabitants of the surface had bigger problems than a goblin census.

Harry didn't know the specifics of how Voldemort saved himself and the last of his followers or why it somehow kept Harry among the living as well. All he knew is that he wished it hadn't spared him. Harry first fought Voldemort before he turned two. He had killed him four times now, not something most can say about their nemesis.

Harry continued to fight after Voldemort took his parents. After Sirius fell through the Veil. After Hermione and her parents were murdered. After Dumbledore. Fighting on as the world died seemed no different but when the world breathed its last, that began to change.

There would be no rebuilding this world of ash. Revenge was all Harry could hope to accomplish by fighting now. Letting Voldemort rule over the world he destroyed seemed revenge enough. Unfortunately for Harry, Voldemort and his followers wanted to keep fighting.

Harry fled, or performed a tactical retreat as he saw it. They gave chase. Harry reduced the world's death eater population by 7 and the pursuit mostly stopped. He wandered after that looking for a reason to fight, for survivors. Two years later he found himself back at the entrance to the ministry of Magic.

Harry kicked the debris away from the bottom of the door to the phone booth and wrenched it open expecting it to be stuck. It wasn't. He lost his balance and fell backwards but his self designed radiation suit kept any witness from seeing the embarrassment on his face, though as he was likely the only person in the entire country, that was a moot issue. Enchantments protecting against radiation were almost nonexistent before the bombs fell on London. Harry doubted any of the death eaters knew of them or even cared to learn them. Only the UK burned though, there were plenty of less irradiated places where they could pretend to rule the world.

Harry also made it a point to destroy any magical knowledge he found in his wandering, after securing a copy for himself of course. If the death eaters searched for the world's hidden knowledge, Harry thought it best if they found only ash.

Harry stood and entered the phone booth. The inside was just as immaculate as the outside. For the thousandth time Harry cursed wizard's lack of common sense. Sure, it was a simple spell to make a phone booth impervious to damage. An even simpler spell would make it repel dust and graffiti too. These spells made it too clean and undamaged though. Were there muggles left to see it they would have likely discovered the hidden magical world.

Harry grabbed the receiver and entered the code to access the ministry.

"…come to the …try o… ma… state yo… an… …son for yo… …it," said the voice on the phone amid the static. Apparently some things weren't magicked to be impervious.

"Harry Potter," he replied, his voice muffled by his helmet, before thinking a moment and adding "suicide mission?"

The voice on the line attempted to say thank you before the line went dead. A visitor badge with "Harry Potter: Suicide?" printed in big letters emerged from the coin slot. Sounds about right, thought Harry with a dark smile.

The phone booth started its journey downward and Harry cast a silent _lumos_ with the palm side crystal embedded in the ring on his left hand. He'd learned the benefit of not using his wand for light and keeping the source out of his eyes helped preserve his night vision. The ring wasn't the showiest trinket he acquired in his wandering, just a wide silver band with a large red crystal set on the top and the now glowing clear crystal on the bottom, but it was damn useful. He wished he could have done more to thank the witch he'd taken it from than bury her.

Reaching the atrium, the doors opened with a pleasant ding. The atrium was pitch black, not a single floo lit, and silent as a tomb. Harry raised his left hand to light the way, his breath hitching at the sight in front of him. Corpses littered the floor, the walls lined with cots occupied by even more corpses. When the flu mutated and hit the magical community, St Mungo's quickly became overwhelmed. The ministry became a makeshift hospital itself.

Just like the phone booth, impervious charms kept all the dead's clothing in immaculate condition. Harry had discovered early in his wandering that corpses with clean clothes were likely magical. It made deciding which bodies to search easier. Unexpectedly, those in the atrium were desiccated like mummies, though they had only been dead for under a year. Harry glanced at his watch, seeing the two left most lights glaring red, and discovered the cause. There was no air in the room. With the rebreather in his radiation suit, Harry hadn't even noticed.

He quickly scanned the bodies for loot with an experienced eye but spotted nothing he needed. He was already loaded for bear.

Once he made his way to the garish magical brethren fountain at the center of the room he pulled a marble size ball out of one of the pockets on his belt. He had liberated the belt from a comic book loving wizard in the states who had fashioned it after Batman's utility belt. Harry hadn't known who that was at the time, though he helped himself to the wizards comic collection and soon found out. Flicking his wand out of its holster after setting the marble on the ground, he enlarged it to its original beach ball size. Heaving it up, he cast a silent charm to affix it to the outstretched arm of the wizard statue on the fountain.

This ball was one of the more showy trinkets he found, an unfortunately single use item. The United States Magical Army Division called it Napalm-M. It burned as hot and angry as Fiendfire and didn't even need oxygen, so it would work in a vacuum. Harry found it after discovering the USMAD's research department in the magically hidden 6th arm of the Pentagon. Harry pilfered their stock but couldn't access the directions to make them. The Americans had almost surpassed the Japanese in getting magic and technology to interact and while Harry gained a fair amount of skills in his wandering, he had no idea how to even turn on the army's computers without access to power. He didn't even bother to destroy them to keep the knowledge away from the death eaters. They would likely be worse than him with technology.

Harry set the timer on the Napalm-m device. After thirty minutes it would activate if a magical signature came within 5 yards. That should deal with any death eater who might be following, thought Harry.

He continued towards the security station, noticing some of the twin's products in the confiscated items bin, Harry shrunk the whole bin and put it in one of his belt pouches before setting another Napalm-M device.

Harry walked past the lifts to the stairs which were thankfully empty of corpses. Only one floor down to his destination: the Department of Mysteries. The antichamber spun as soon as he entered and he readied another device. This one was twice as large and had radiation warnings plastered on its side. This was the USMAD's ultimate weapon against a magical foe. A magic targeting neutron bomb. According to the notes it would destroy all magic in a 500 yard radius. Witches and wizards would turn squibs, wands would become sticks with odd things inside, ernchanted items would lose their enchantments, potions their potency. Any magical creature that couldn't survive without its magic would die. Of course it shared the same effects as a muggle neutron bomb so the radioactive blast would kill anything still living even if they could survive without magic. Harry set it, same as the others.

Once the spinning stopped, Harry located the death chamber door and went through. Thankfully, the trick to get past the spinning room was the first thing he learned in his summer as Croaker's intern.

The death chamber hadn't changed since he first saw it at the end of his fifth year, a long, black stone walled room with an equally black stone arch in the center. The Veil of Death. His destination this morning.

Being completely alone for the best part of a year, Harry had done a fair amount of reading, he was always on the hunt for new books. One of his most recent finds was a tome regarding some radical 14th century theories on the Veil of Death. Harry found it in the library of a South African wizard, the only volume in that library that Harry hadn't collected at that point.

The book argued that the Veil wasn't a gateway between life and death, but a gateway between worlds. The idea of a new world filled Harry with hope, hope he hadn't felt since well before the last victim of the flu died. Even if the Veil led to the world of the dead, it would be better than the current world of the dead Harry inhabited.

Standing before the archway he could hear the murmured voices of the Veil but couldn't distinguish any individual words. With a flick of his wrist he unholstered his wand and cast a quarantine shield that encompassed both himself and the Veil. His next spell was the last spell he learned from a living human, an antiseptic spell specifically targeting the Scottish Flu, well all flu viruses really, but the Scottish was the one killing everyone. Had the CDC witch Harry learned the spell from created it just a month earlier, this world might not be so dead.

Harry felt a cold tingle pass through him as the spell killed any flu virus inside the quarantine shield. It wouldn't be proper to kill off the inhabitants of his new world… unless it was some sort of hell planet or a dead world like this one.

Shaking off that thought, Harry closed his eyes and walked through the Veil.


	2. Chapter 2

Inside the Veil was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced. After the first step there was no floor. He found himself floating. Opening his eyes, a kaleidoscope of rapidly changing images, some mundane and others fantastic, assaulted his vision. He saw gleaming cites and dark castles, a dragon ridden by a woman attacking an army and a man in black armor swinging a glowing red sword. The images sped and spun to the point where Harry couldn't discern any of them. He closed his eyes, took centering breath and found his feet on solid ground.

Immediately opening his eyes, Harry saw nothing but darkness. Respelling the light spell on his ring, he found himself in a large windowless room with dusty stacks of desks on one side and an industrial boiler on the other. Remembering hiding from Dudley once in their primary school's basement, Harry guessed that he was in the boiler room of a school.

Finding no immediate threat, he glanced at the lights on his watch. No red lights, which meant breathable air and a lack of radioactivity. The dark magic/threat detecting light was blinking yellow, though it had been doing that since he built the watch. The blinking was much slower than usual, so wherever Harry was, the threat to him was at least less than his last world.

Not needing it anymore, Harry started the routine of taking off his radiation suit. The sticking charms connecting his gloves to the sleeves were the first to go. The gloves might be enchanted transparent but they were thick and unwieldy. The face mask/rebreather came off next. Once the charms were canceled he pushed the hood back and took his first breath in this new world. It was warm and musty, not to be unexpected in a boiler room.

He quickly finished removing his radiation suit. A single charm separated the top from the trousers and split the seams in the back of both allowing him to pull them off like a stripper, leaving Harry wearing a tank top and shorts with the out of place additions of his utility belt and dragon skin boots. While the boots were spelled against radiation, amongst other things, they were so damn comfortable that he rarely took them off. Plus they looked cool and while this wasn't an important factor after his last world died, he didn't want to look like a schlub in this new world.

Along those lines, Harry removed his shrunken trunk from his belt buckle and opened it to the clothing compartment. Harry found a pair of black jeans and a black shirt. With no idea what the world would be like outside this room, he figured he couldn't go wrong with black.

Once dressed he pondered armor. It was best to be prepared but he didn't want to look like a crazy person if this was a happy world full of puppies and daydreams. His duster was a given. He had wanted one ever since he discovers the novels about another wizard named Harry who always wore one. He remembered squealing like a little girl when he found one at a tailor shop in the Los Angeles magical tower's mall. It was made from the wing leather of a Ukrainian Iron Belly, dyed black and stuffed with every comfort and protection charm Harry could imagine and a few he couldn't. He wore it constantly when he didn't need the radiation suit, at least after he deactivated the anti theft charms. The second he took it out of the shop it turned Umbridge pink and emitted a piercing scream.

Harry added a leather vest made from the same wing and equally charmed. Part of him thought it too much, but it was far less than he had been wearing the last few years and he almost felt naked without extra protection but a full suit of goblin made mail would look out of place in a puppy and daydream world.

He then turned to weapons but decided to keep it simple. He had his wand and a variety of trinkets in his belt pouches if this world proved more dangerous than his last. Strapping a sword to his back would bring way too much attention and while Harry was likely the best swordsman on his old world, at least at the end, he only has a few weeks of lessons before his instructor died from the flu. Shouldn't wear a sword if you don't know enough to use it, especially a wicked sharp sword infused with basilisk venom.

Harry did keep a shrunken pistol in the pocket of his duster though. Another invention of the USMAD. It looked like an M1911 covered in etched runes. Enchanted to be silent, recoilless and it even hid the muzzle flash. He had helped himself to a several of the shrinking enchanted clips. They shrink the bullets in the magazine to allow up to 100 rounds per clip, handy until you have to spend 10 minutes reloading.

Finally, Harry pulled the shrunken glasses case out of the inside pocket of his duster and put on his glasses. He had no need for them to fix his vision, he had discovered a vision correcting potion regimen common in Phnom Penh's magical market which thankfully didn't require any mammalian or avian ingredients. He was used to the feel of glasses and his current pair contained several useful enhancements. Harry assumed that Dumbledore's glasses were similarly charmed. It explained how he always seemed to see Harry, even under his invisibility cloak.

Now dressed, Harry took the time to stow his radiation suit in its own compartment. He realized as he refolded the top for the third time that he was stalling. He made the jump to a new world and while the boiler room wasn't much to go on, it showed that this world was at least somewhat similar to his original. But it was a one way trip and unless he could find another portal, he was stuck here. If he claimed the stairs, he would discover if his trip had been for good or ill and he enjoyed this moment of blissful ignorance.

Damn it, thought Harry, I'm a Griffindor, and he marched up the stairs to the door. Finding it locked he cast a silent unlocking charm and opened it slowly, wand at the ready. He might be a Griffindor but he had learned to be both brave and cautious.

The door opened to a dark hallway with lockers on both sides. There were windows above the lockers across from Harry. It was night, but streetlight dimly lighting the hallway. Well, thought Harry, electricity, that's a good sign. He paused a moment to listen but the only sounds he could here were the ticking of a clock on the wall and quiet buzzing of the exit signs on the ceiling.

Harry glanced at the clock, 9:44, and started following the arrows on the exit signs. They led him to the end of the hallway where it intersected another hallway. Harry could see the exit down the left hallway but an open door spilling light into the hallway between him and the exit. He could hear murmured voices coming from the open door. People, Harry thought with a smile. He hadn't met a living person that didn't try to immediately kill him in almost a year.

However excited the prospect of meeting new people made him, he understood that caution was still the right move. Every indication pointed to this being a muggle school so he cast a muggle repelling charm on himself just in case they were not too friendly and continued towards the open door.

As Harry got closer, he could hear that it was more than one voice, several having a discussion. He missed most of what was said. Simply hearing voices that were not shouting "Die Potter!" or "Avada Kedavra!" overwhelmed him. When he reached the door and looked in at the group he was crying joyful tears while doing everything he could think of to stop them.

The group looked to be handful of students with a professor all sitting at the same table in a small library while a man too old to be a student but too young to be a professor stood in the shadows near one of the stacks. Harry's smile broadened at such a normal scene. Living people just living. He couldn't recall ever seeing something so wonderful.

"You ok buddy?" asked a short ginger kid while looking directly at Harry.

Harry, alarmed that his spell had seemed to fail, quickly glanced at the people in the library. In addition to the boy who had asked him the question the professor, older boy in the corner, the redheaded girl and the blonde were looking right at Harry while the other two students were looking in Harry's direction but with confused looks not their faces.

Some of these people aren't muggles, thought Harry as he tried to respond to the question. "I'm a… a…" he stammered out trying to find his ill used voice while reaching for his glasses to activate the aura sight function.

He needed to determine if they were more than muggles or if his spell failed. The professor and redheaded girl were practitioners of some sort. Their auras shined with a greenish shimmer though the professor's aura had some faded black blotches as well. He had dabbled with something dark in his distant past. The punk Weasley had the pale silver aura of a werewolf.

The blond's aura held Harry's full attention. It looked like the corona of the sun during an eclipse; a black band outlining her body surrounded by a blazingly bright yellow glow that moved as if it were on fire.

Movement to the side of Harry's vision drew his eyes from the Blond's aura to the man in the corner who had taken a more aggressive stance. His aura was blacker than black, more the absent of light than a black glow, though a dim white light glowed from his chest. Harry didn't understand the chest light but the rest spoke of darkness, inhuman darkness, dead darkness. This man was dangerous.

Harry cancelled the aura sight, moving his wand hand forward to be ready to cast the moment he triggered the holster. Looking up, he noticed the blond blushing. He must have stared at her aura for too long, maybe the dead thing in the corner was overprotective?

Harry stopped stammering finally finding his voice, nothing like a deadly possible opponent to get your head back in the game. "I'm terribly sorry for interrupting," Harry said trying to appear as non threatening as possible, "just a bit lost. Could I ask where I am?"

Harry winced internally as soon as the question left his mouth, the group stared at him quizzically for a moment before the muggle boy answered, "your in the library." Harry looked at he boy expectantly until he added, "of Sunnydale High School."

In for a penny in for a pound, thought Harry asking, "Sunnydale?"

The redhead sitting next to the werewolf answered this time, "California?"

"Ah, the states," Harry replied with a slight grin, "well, it looks like I've got quite a trip ahead of me." He took a step back, continuing before they started to ask questions that he didn't want to answer, "again, so sorry for interrupting, I should be…"

Harry paused looking at the werewolf. He had a year's supply of wolfsbane in his potion pouch just in case Greyback bit him. Not that he really needed it if he got bit, with only death eaters and Voldemort still alive, he wouldn't care who he bit had he been turned. Harry pondered the good of helping the wolf versus the added questions they would ask.

The good won out in his head. Harry held a placating hand up, taking a slow step towards the werewolf. "before I go," he said, reaching into the potion pouch on his belt, "I have something to help with your… monthly visitor." He unshrunk the wolfsbane case and set it on the table in front of the wolf. "Drink one vial on the morning before your big night. I'm told it tastes like shit, but it really helps."

"Well…" Harry said giving his confused audience another look before turning and quickly walking to the door, "thanks for all the help, but I really must be going" he finished, not turning around.

Harry quickly walked down the hallway towards the exit, sparing quick glances back to make sure he wasn't followed. He made a mess of that. What if this world has a statute of secrecy? Did he just reveal the magical world to muggles? He decided he needed to clear his head, still overwhelmed by the whole new world experience. He needed to fly.

Lost in these thoughts Harry almost ran into a man coming in through the door. He was dressed in a suit, with short hair and glasses. Harry assumed he was another professor.

"I beg your pardon," Harry said, stopping himself short of running into the man. Shaking his head, he added quietly, "I really have to get used to people again"

"Think nothing of it," replied the man in a posh accent before offering Harry his hand, "always a pleasure to meet a fellow Brit, Wesley Wyndham-Price."

Harry shook the man's hand, "Harry Potter, now if you will excuse me, I have to fly."

Harry continued out the door and paused to decide where to go. He needed to find out if this world had a secret magical society, and if so, he needed to know their rules before he accidentally broke any more of them. California was on the west coast of America so checking for the ministry in London would be quite a trip. One he expected to take soon, but too long for the moment. The American Magical Republic had an LA office that would be a much shorter trip.

Not knowing where in California, Sunnydale was, Harry flicked his wand out to perform Hermione's Point and spell. Such a versatile spell. In its simple form it points north, but add a location or a person and it will point toward it or them. With people it usually only worked if the caster was more than a casual acquaintance with the target though.

Harry held his wand loosely and said "point me, Los Angeles." The wand slowly moved towards Harry's left. Satisfied he had a destination, he holstered his wand, shifted into his raven animagus form and took off, failing to notice that the blond girl had exited the building in time to see him transform.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This first section probably should have been included in the second chapter and should clear up any questions about where we are in Buffy's timeline. If there is a paring it will likely be Harry/Buffy but that isn't really the focus for the story. Thank you for reading.**

MEANWHILE IN THE LIBRARY RIGHT AFTER HARRY'S EXIT (all caps because I like to think of it in the voice of the narrator of the old Superfriends show. Google it)

Everyone in the library stared at the open door in confusion after the strange boy made his hasty exit, except Oz, who continued looking suspiciously at the leather case.

Finally, Oz broke the silence, asking no one in particular, "how did he know I was a werewolf?"

"I couldn't even see him when everyone else looked at the doorway" interjected Cordelia.

"I didn't see him either," added Xander, "at least not until he started talking. Then, boom! It felt like I knew he was there the whole time. Some kind of mag…"

"What I want to know," interrupted Angel, "is why he stared at Buffy like that."

Everyone turned to Buffy who still looking at the empty door. She turned towards the group, adding "yeah, that was definitely creepy and his eyes looked like they were glowing." Buffy's own eyes widened, "you don't think he had some sort of X-ray vision mojo? Was he perving on me?"

Buffy jumped up out of her chair. "I'm going to go find out. Give him a piece of my mind," she said, quickly leaving the room.

"Buffy," Giles tried futilely to call her back before sighing and moving to clean his glasses, "we should focus on the Mayor's ascension and worry about our strange guest after. He didn't seem to be a threat even if we don't know who or what he was."

"He was human," Angel interjected, "I could smell that much."

"What should we do with this" Oz said pointing to the case on the table, "can we trust that it is what he said it was?"

Willow carefully picked up the case, asking the room "did anyone else notice that the pocket he took this out of was much smaller than this case?"

"It grew," replied Oz, still looking suspiciously at the case, "it was about the size of a matchbox when he pulled it out and it grew before he placed it on the table."

Everyone was silent for a moment. "I could really use that," Cordelia said, ignoring the exasperated looks the others gave her, "I could carry everything I needed in a tiny clutch. Someone has to have their priorities straight."

Ignoring Cordelia, Willow opened the case. It contained two rows of six vials full of a bluish liquid. There was a thick piece of folded paper wedged in between the rows. She unfolded the paper, reading it aloud, "Slug and Jiggers Apothecary, Diagon Alley London, presents: Concentrated Wolfsbane. Our new and secret formula requires only one small dose a month instead of five gobletfuls! Unfortunately, we couldn't change the taste. Directions: drink one vial between nine and noon on the day of the full moon. Warning: deadly if drunk by non werewolves or house elves. Remember to always dispose of empty vials with the Evanesco spell for the safety of others or return them to Slug and Jiggers for a five knut deposit."

"That just gave me a million more questions," Said Oz. He picked up one of the vials, looking closely at the liquid inside.

"I have to agree," Giles added, standing up to get a better look at the paper Willow had dropped back onto the table, "this is most puzzling."

Before Giles could read the paper himself, Wesley entered the library, held his hands out in a placating gesture and said, "I'm not here for the counsel, I only want to help with the Mayor." Noticing the confusion in the room he asked, "What's happened? Buffy ran past me just a second ago. Should we gear up and follow?"

"No," replied Giles, "we had an unexpected and confusing visitor. Buffy was trying to catch him before he left."

"Are you talking about Harry Potter?" Wesley asked, "dark hair with glasses wearing a long leather coat?"

"How do you know his name?" asked Angel.

"I asked him," replied Wesley mater of factly, "He seemed like he was distracted and in a hurry, so much so that he nearly ran into me as I entered the building. I noticed the accent when he apologized and I introduced myself to a fellow brit. He did say something odd though. I think it was 'I have to get used to being around people again.' Might explain why he wasn't looking where he was going"

"Could also explain why he was crying," added Willow. "When I first saw him in the doorway he was balling but smiling the happiest smile too. If I had been alone for a long time, I might cry happy tears when I first saw another person."

Oz put the bottle he was looking at back in the case and gave Willow a one armed hug.

"That doesn't explain the creepy staring or unknown magic," added Angel.

"Unknown magic?" asked Wesley excitedly.

Willow pointed to the paper on the table. Wesley picked it up and started reading it, eyes widening.

A shocked Buffy entered the library and sat, staring down at the table. "Did you catch up to him?" asked an agitated Angel, "What did he do to you?"

"I…" Buffy said shaking her head, "I had just got to the door. He was outside on the sidewalk. He shoved a stick down the arm of his coat and then transformed into a big crow that flew away"

"Big Crow? A raven?" Giles asked.

"I don't know," replied Buffy, "I'm not bird girl. I don't have an encyclopedia of birds in my head. It was black and like this tall." She held her hand about two feet apart.

The room was again silent for a moment as the group processed the new unanswered questions created by there unexpected guest.

"While I would love to continue this discussion of our… visitor and his intriguing abilities" Giles said, "the Mayor's ascension should be our focus. We can deal with our other mystery after we stop the Mayor."

…

Harry, oblivious to the confusion his visit brought to the library, found himself enjoying his nighttime flight towards Los Angeles. The Americas were the first place Harry went when the bombs fell on Britain. He had hoped to find the more progressive American magical communities working on a cure. What he found when he landed in Boston, was a city quickly succumbing to the flu. By the time he reached the Magical Capital, hidden under Federal Hall in New York, it and the city were dead. The flu could survive almost indefinitely in the air and killed within days of infection. Voldemort's imperiused epidemiologist was at the top of his field.

It took at least a month before Harry made his way to the west coast, which he found as dead as New York. The differences in this world were stark, even at a thousand feet. The roads were still full of cars, even at this late hour, but they were moving now. The lights, though, lights made a huge difference. With everyone who ran it dead, the power grid soon failed. Harry could of course make his own light with ease but seeing the area fully lit at night was a quite different experience.

Harry swooped down to about a hundred feet as he got closer to Downtown LA searching for the USMR West building. He had only seen it from the sky once and that was when the sun was shining bright. It took three fly-by's of the area where he thought the tower was to find it. At least part of it. The building, as he remembered, was a 50 some story rectangular tower on top of a ten story U shaped base, the end of which stepped up like a pyramid with the interior of the U covered in a slope of windows. The building he was circling had the U shaped base, pyramid steps and glass slope, but it was missing its tower.

Harry landed in the alley across the street from the building, shifting back to his human form behind a dumpster. He crossed the street to get a better look at it. He noticed another difference. The American's applied a special muggle repellent charm on their buildings and other hidden places. Magicals would see the building as it was, but muggles would see a mundane alternative. This changed the signage too. When Harry first saw the USMR's LA headquarters the sign read "United States Magical Republic: West Coast." Muggles, according to a pamphlet he read upon his first visit, would see the name of a generic law firm that they would forget a few minutes after leaving the area.

The sign on the building Harry was in front of now read "Wolfram & Hart: Attorneys at Law."

Bugger, thought Harry as he stared at the sign. Am I a muggle in this world that can't see the sign or rest of the building?

Harry closed his eyes and engaged the magic sight mode on his glasses, their most useful setting in his opinion. It lets the wearer see the building blocks of enchantments applied to places or items. Harry often used them in ward cracking, wards on dead wizard's property tended to be just as deadly as those who's owners were still living.

Harry was not ready for what he saw when he opened his eyes. This building was magically protected but if these wards were made by the USMR, he wanted nothing to do with them. It took every ounce of his Gryffindor courage to not run away screaming like a little girl.

The wards covered every surface of the building using a runic language that Harry couldn't translate, one that just looked foul, evil. They pulsated in a deep, deep red that usually signified blood powered wards. Given the size and amount of these wards, Harry estimated the blood required to create them would cost tens of thousands of lives. Even powering them would require the blood of at least a hundred people a year. It was hands down the most evil building Harry had ever seen. Voldemort's most recent abode might as well have been Disneyland compared to this.

More frightening than the wards, an inverted pentagram took up the entire glass slope of the building, burning with the same deep red as the wards. Extremely rare in Harry's world this sort of symbol would be used to commune with and summon demons. Voldemort summoned more than a couple demons when desperate, but demons are just as likely to attack the summoner than who the summoner wants them to kill, often more so as demons tended to hate being summoned.

Voldemort's inverted pentagrams were much smaller, not more than a couple of yards wide. Even at that size, it took a death or two to summon a demon. Millions could have been killed to use the one Harry saw now. He began to worry that this world could end up more dangerous than his last.

"Can I help you sir?" asked a too close voice.

Startled, Harry quickly turned to the source, the still active mage sight on his glasses cut through the glamour of the well dressed security guard, showing the demon hidden beneath. Harry's Gryffindor courage gave out at upon seeing it's red skinned, goat horned head. He swiftly turned on the spot and apparated to safety, unknowingly spilching a chunk of his hair.

Harry found himself in a vaguely familiar green valley standing next to an unfamiliar paved road. Suddenly, the ground started moving towards his face. Harry missed what happened next, passing out from magical exhaustion before his temple hit the pavement.

…

Holland Manners woke with a shot, did I hear the red phone ring in my dream or for real, he questioned himself frantically. The second ring of the red phone answered his question. He grabbed the phone before it could ring a third time, answering, "Holland Manners, how may I serve," after all it wouldn't do to seem impolite to a senior partner.

Twenty minutes later he stood in front of several promising associates in a conference room at Wolfram & Hart.

"We have a new, let's say challenge," he told them turning on a video screen displaying black and white security footage from the front of the office. In the paused footage, a dark haired young man stood on the sidewalk outside the building. "The Senior Partners have taken an interest in this man, particularly this ability."

Holland started the video, in it the man stared at the building wide eyed, almost trembling. One of the Firm's security guards entered the frame and said something. The boy quickly looked to the guard before disappearing, the displaced air pulling the guard forward before violently blowing him onto his back.

"This is currently all we have, but Investigations are combing all available databases and the the scryers have moved this to the top of the pile. I am sure our lack of information is only temporary and you will be provided everything found according to your clearance levels. I want theories on what he did and strategies on how to bring him into the fold or in the alternative how to bring him in should he be… uncooperative. This takes priority over all other work outside open cases and the Sunnydale situation, though that should conclude later today with the ascension."

…

Harry dreamt he was enjoying a Hogsmeade weekend with Ron and Hermione. It was a happy dream. Harry despised it. He always woke up from it with a warm feeling in his chest that lasted for the briefest of moments before reality, and remembering their deaths, chilled him to his core.

Luckily for him, Dream Harry didn't know he hated this dream yet. He took a swig of his butterbeer and turned to listen to what Hermione was saying to Ron.

"You really need to study more, Ronald," she chided him, "There is a Muggle theory that each choice we make exists in multiple universes where each choice is made. Right now there is a Ron who studied for the Transfiguration quiz and didn't get a week of detention for his failing grade. I bet there is even a universe where you are a girl."

"Don't be mental, Hermione," Ron interrupted before taking a bite out of his meat pie, continuing, "How would studying for the quiz made me a girl?"

"Talking with your mouth full is very rude and studying wouldn't be the different choice. All it would take is a different sperm reaching your mother's egg…"

"Oi, I'm trying to eat here!" Ron interrupted, "no talking about my mum's… anything."

Hermione shook her head and turned to Harry, asking his thoughts on parallel universes.

Harry smiled at his first true friends, replying, "as long as we are all together there, I don't care if Ron was a girl. I'd hope she'd have better table manners though."

Ron's indignant response was interrupted by the appearance of Madam Rosmerta. "can I bring you children anything more?"

…

Harry opened his eyes to see a blurry wooden ceiling that slowly came into focus. He ached all over, shivering cold despite the blankets swaddling him. He knew this feeling all too well: magical exhaustion. This strongly, he must have apparated half way around the world. He started to reach for his potion pouch to grab a replenisher, but hearing voices, he feigned sleep..

"I don't believe you could do anything more for him than you have done, Rosie," the voice said.

A woman answered, "I do hope he recovers, His lips were blue when Argus brought him in. Found him lying there on the drive to the Ruins."

"Just keep him warm for now, I've called nurse Pauline to come check out his head injury. That's all we can do unless we call to Elgen for an ambulance."

The woman's voice seemed vaguely familiar to Harry. He opened his eyes to get a look. She stood behind a Bar talking to a man sitting across from her. The woman was the spitting image of Madam Rosemerta, though her top was more modern and left much less of her ample chest to the imagination.

She must have noticed Harry had woken and rushed over to his side. "Thank goodness you are awake. You gave us quite a scare. I'm Rosie and this," she said, pointing to the man, "is my husband Jacob."

"Where am I," croaked Harry.

"Why our pub, the Three Stags Inn," she said continuing with pride in her voice, "the finest pub in Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade?" Harry squeaked excitedly. No wonder he was hit with magical exhaustion, he had never traveled that far in one jump. Returning to the UK had been his plan at some point in the near future so showing up early wouldn't hurt his investigation.

"It's a silly name for sure," she smiled, "but an old name that kind of stuck. Used to be known for our pigs and our bees. Hogs and meed. These days we pay the bills with all the tourists visiting the castle ruins.

Harry's heart fell at the word ruins. It could be a muggle repellent charm but how could a magical Hogwarts coexist with a muggle Hogsmeade? Harry hoped that whatever state he found Hogwarts in, it would be better than the USMR's LA building.

Needing to see the castle for himself, Harry released his wand under the blanket and cast the strongest muggle repellent charm he knew. Rosie and Jacob turned back to their own conversation. Harry grabbed a core revitalize potion from his belt pouch, enlarged and downed it, feeling his core fill just enough to stave off the symptoms of exhaustion. Apparating, anywhere, let alone halfway across the world again, wouldn't be happening anytime soon..

Standing slowly, he made his way out the door into the fading dusk light. This Hogsmeade looked like any other muggle village from his world. The paved roads, electric lights and parked cars seemed completely out of place to him. Shrugging it off, he started walking down the main road in the direction Hogwarts should be.

Just outside of town, he found the road to Hogwarts or according to the signs: "Hogsmeade castle ruins." The road passed through where the main gates once stood, a crumbling waist high wall to the right of the road the only evidence of their existence. A small car park sat where Hagrid's hut should have been. From the car park, Harry got his first look at the castle ruins. He saw similarities between this castle and Hogwarts, but the ruins looked to be just the front facade and the towers to each side. Only one of the towers looked intact, the other had fallen long ago, a moss covered pile of debris the only evidence of where it once stood.

The closer he got to the castle, the more wear and damage he could make out. The roof was missing as was most of the wall behind the fallen tower. The sun had just set so Harry cast a lumos on his ring as he passed the threshold. Seeing nothing familiar, Harry activated the mage sight on his glasses. Nothing changed. This wasn't the greatest magic school in Europe, it was just a mundane pile of stones.

A part of Harry had hoped his Sirius had ended up in this world. Harry's trip through the Veil, seeing several different worlds, had diminished that hope. Sirius could be in any of them. Nevertheless, he knew that had Sirius found himself in this world, Hogwarts would likely be a place he would visit. Harry explored the ruins looking for any sign that Sirius had been here. Knowing him, there might just be some graffiti proclaiming "Sirius Black Was Here!" A half hour searching in the fading light found nothing.

Dejected by his lack of discovery, Harry dispelled his charms, transformed into his raven form and took to the air. Hogwarts was only one of the places in the UK he wanted to investigate, meeting a Madam Rosmerta from this world added a few new places to that list.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: apologies for any confusion created by my last note regarding pairings. It is Harry/Buffy though romance isn't a main focus.**

 **If you notice any errors and have the desire to share your discovery, I would welcome someone pointing them out. One should always want to improve.**

Harry landed in an alley off of Whitehall, near the Ministry of Magic's entrance. Changing back to his human form he entered the street searching for the telephone booth. He found it, but frowned at its condition. It didn't gleam like the entrance in his world had, even after the nuclear bombs. He went through the motions anyway and entered the appropriate code. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. He began to finally accept that this world didn't have the same type of hidden magical community.

Remembering the green auras on two of the people he met in the library when he first arrived and the monstrosity he discovered in LA, he knew that there was some sort of magic here. Perhaps returning to Sunnydale when his English Investigation ended would be a prudent course of action.

Someone tapping on the glass of the booth startled Harry out of his thoughts. A stunning woman, dressed for what he assumed was a night out in a shiny tight top and black miniskirt, stood staring at him from the other side of the door. He eyed her suspiciously. The street was empty when he arrived and only government offices lined the surrounding blocks. Why was she here at this hour?

Not knowing the actual time, Harry checked his watch. The warning light on the right which had been slowly blinking yellow was currently solid red. Harry was in mortal danger.

He readied his right hand to be able to unholster his wand while activating the aura sight on his glasses. The woman outside had the same black, absent of light, aura as the man in the library though she lacked his inner glow. Harry quickly scanned the area to see if there were any other people close by. Seeing nobody, he grabbed the door with his left hand, flicking his wrist to bring his wand into his right.

"All yours," he said, opening the door and giving the woman a slight smile.

She made no effort to move out of his way. Harry made a placating gesture with his left hand saying, "I can't give you the phone…" Harry hit her with a silent overpowered stunner from his waist high wand, blasting her back about ten feet, "if you don't get out of the way" he finished.

Fifteen minutes later Harry was ready to find out what she was. he had her bound and chained in the alley with strong repelling and silencing charms cast. Nobody should bother them. Harry case a weak eneverate, ideally, just enough to keep her sluggish in case she was stronger than the chains. One can never be too cautious when it comes to unknown, and likely malevolent, beings.

The woman opened her eyes and immediately began struggling with her binds, staring hatred at Harry. Her struggling became more violent before she shook her head, her face transformed into a partially demonic visage complete with fangs that she snarled and snapped at Harry.

"So…," began Harry, "I'm guessing you are some sort of vampire, right?"

She didn't answer, continuing to struggle against her bonds instead. Transformed, she was able to rip through the ropes that held her arms, but not the chains.

"I'm going to level with you. I'm not from around here. I'm not familiar with the… flavor of things and this is turning out to be a dangerous place. Just tonight a vampire tried to suck my blood!"

I wasn't going to kill you," the vampire interrupted, shifting back to her human face, "I just wanted a quick shag and a drink."

"Well you certainly came on strong," replied Harry with a nervous chuckle. "I'll make a deal with you then, I've got questions about the supernatural side of life around here. You answer them, I'll let you go."

"And what assurances do I get that you will let me out?"

Harry shot her a dangerous smile. "None at all," he held up his left hand, silently conjuring a bluebell flame in it, "but I'm the one holding the flame."

"Fine!" She spit out and she talked.

For the next thirty minutes she told him everything she knew about the supernatural world. Unfortunately, she was relatively young for a vampire, turned only 25 years ago. Her knowledge of the local vampire community was extensive but she knew little of vampire politics on a larger scale and even less about the greater supernatural world.

Of note, she told Harry what she knew about Wolfram & Hart: "demonic law firm that should be avoided." Avoiding it seemed like a good idea. She also described what she knew about the good guys: a vampire slayer and a counsel to guide her as well as various smaller holy orders and other groups that try and fight for the light. Harry thought he might be able to find some allies, but all this vamp knew were the names, and sometimes not even that. She didn't know who or where the slayer was though she claimed that her Sire had killed two of them."

After she was done talking, Harry learned a few things she wouldn't tell him. He learned what harmed the vampires of this world. Fire and holy symbols he remembered from his world, though he lacked a holy symbol to test. The gem was about stakes. The only vampires Harry had fought in his world were emaciated wretches dying from the lack of blood. Harry had used fire to dispose of them but he was always curious about transfigured stakes. Only wooden stakes through the heart kill them, not plastic or any other material. What about a non-wood material transfigured into wood?

Harry discovered it wouldn't when he tried it using a transfigured tin can, but transfiguring a toothpick into a stake worked like a charm. It did end his experimentation, though, leaving the question of wood transfigured into something else for a later date.

Vanishing any remaining evidence and canceling the spells, Harry shifted into a raven and took off.

Harry didn't even transform at his next stop. Landing on the roof across from where the Leaky Cauldron should have been. Here, it was a parking garage. Harry took off towards his last location.

12 Grimmauld place looked mind-numbingly normal. Harry sat in a tree across the street watching it in the dawn light. He had landed here hours ago and rested a while in bird form. He wanted to see who lived here without breaking in. Observing it for a morning also gave him a chance to slow down and think. Excluding his unconsciousness from magical exhaustion, Harry had been moving full tilt since stepping through the Veil just under 36 hours ago. He needed time to plan.

He kept thinking back to what the vamp told him. There could be allies for him to find. Harry chuckled at this. Allies, he though, he didn't even ask if he would fight, only how he could fight better. Saving people complex indeed.

The practitioners he met in Sunnydale were a possibility as well. The lure of learning new magics enticed Harry in a way Hermione would have loved. They certainly seemed inclusive as well, with a vamp, a werewolf and whatever the blond girl was in their group. They would probably accept the help of a wizard without trying to use him.

Harry hated mysteries but loved finding answers and that blond was a mystery. He could still see her aura burned in his mind. Maybe he could figure out what she was if he went back.

The door to Grimmauld opened. A teenage girl, the spitting image of a young sane Bellitrix LeStrange, bounded down the stoop and started walking down the street. Harry assumed she was off to a job, dressed in what looked to be a uniform.

A few minutes after she disappeared down a side street the door opened again and a Sirius Black came out. Harry could instantly tell it wasn't his Sirius. For one, this Sirius was, well serious. Dressed in a suit and tie with short hair gelled solid, he carried a briefcase with a newspaper under one arm. Before he left the stoop a little boy in pajamas ran out and hugged his leg. Serious, mussed the boys hair before a woman in a housecoat stepped out the door, kissing Serious and pulling the little boy back into the house.

If ravens could smile, Harry would be now. Serious certainly wasn't his Sirius, but seeing him live a happy normal life took some of the sting away from not finding Sirius.

After Serious drove off on his BMW, Harry hopped out of the tree, transforming in the alley. Disillusioning himself he walked to the front of Serious' house. He might have been from a different earth but Serious was still family. Harry wanted to protect them. He pulled an unopened contained of tic-tacs out of one of his pouched and started making Granger Portkeys, Hermione's greatest invention.

Portkeys could transport over much longer distances than Apparation and they couldn't easily be tracked. The problem came in their creation. The spell takes more than a few minutes to perform, time they didn't have in combat situations. Enter the Granger Portkey. The caster performs Hermione's portkey spell on one item, a single tic-tac became Harry's favorite. When placed in contact with other identical, or at lease extremely similar items, the portkey uses a small amount of ambient magic to slowly turn those other items into portkeys identical to itself. The process took an hour or so but it turned tic-tacs into portkeys exponentially after that first one did its magic.

Harry contributed to their creation by tweaking the activation. Hermione's original design used a standard code word activation. Say the word, the portkey activates and one of the tic-tags turned into dust. Harry added biting into the portkey as an activator. It still turned into dust when activated, but the dust was once a tic tac, so you got minty fresh breath when transported to safety.

Harry spent the next ten minutes creating his portkey. If Serious got into trouble Harry would be a tic-tac away. He then moved on to create a few wards, nothing permanent of even offensive. He placed a monitoring ward tied to a stone on the underside of his watch. Were the Serious family in danger, Harry would know. His last ward was a repellent charm tied to intent. If a person tried to enter while harboring Ill intent towards the family, they would be unable to find the house. It might even keep some traveling salesmen away.

His work done, Harry moved back to the alley, transformed and flew to a new destination. Finding Serious at Grimmauld, made him wonder…

…

Three days later, Harry came to the realization that he had a major problem. He landed in Godric's Hollow an hour or so after leaving Grimmauld, unsurprised, he found no Potter monument or his parents graves. Their house was a different story. It stood, unbroken, well loved and full of Potters. While sitting in one of the trees in their backyard Harry saw this universe's version of Lily and James Potter as well as their two daughters, one in her teens and the other much younger, eating breakfast. A few minutes later, this universe's Harry joined the rest of the family at the table.

So enraptured by the sight of his faux family, Harry had watched them like a creepy stalker for the last three days. Once the house had gone to sleep that first night, Harry even set up his Wizards tent in the corner of their yard, under heavy muggle repellent charms. Staying in his raven form might have been convenient, but he didn't like to eat as a raven. Birds had almost no taste buds and tended to eat unappetizing food.

Not that his human food was much better. With almost all the humans and the tastiest land animals gone, no food got produced, unless the death eaters had a secret potato farm. Magicals had amazing preserving charms when it came to food. Your average wizard could stasis charm a plate of dinner that would remain in perfect condition for a year, above average, they could keep it at the same temp. Unfortunately, food in stasis can't be shrunk, limiting the amount Harry could take with him. He cooked himself some wonderful meals in the days after finding a magical stockpile, but it never lasted. The rest of the time, he ate muggle canned and survival foods. He still had more than a year's supply of that and had been raiding it as he played voyeur to his non-family.

It was the Mirror of Erised in real life, compounded by his prolonged isolation, and Harry was having trouble looking away.

On the second night of his vigil Harry set up the same protections as Serious' House and made some tic-tac portkeys. They might not be his real family but he would protect them as if they were.

By the third day, harry couldn't justify delaying his departure any longer. He needed to learn about the magic of this world and find allies. His leads in Sunnydale could be temporary. The school year might be over and the group scattered to the wind with their summer activities. The longer Harry stayed here, the longer it will take to find them. He had also recovered from his magical exhaustion so couldn't use that as an excuse. Plus, with his Tic-Tacs, once he made a portkey in the states he could globe hop all he wanted.

Harry woke up at five on the fourth morning, just enough time to stow his tent and cancel the repellent charms before any of the Potters woke up. When he was prepared, Harry took one last look back at the Potter's house and turned to go. transformed into his raven form.

He heard an intake of breath from the direction of the house, someone had seen him transform. He turned to look, finding the youngest Potter daughter staring at him from her window. He stared back at her for a moment, rotated his head to the side and croaked "goodbye" before flying off to the north.

"Mum! Dad!" the girl screamed. The Potters were likely going to be up earlier than they anticipated but Harry knew Sirius would have approved of that prank.

One of the best tricks Harry had discovered in his avian form was horizon apparation. He flew as high as he could, transformed back to a human and apparated to a point on the horizon. Apparating with a line of sight target took much less energy than standard jumps. Starting so high, Harry could make the trip in seven jumps with a pit stop in the middle for a nap and to down a potion. Even sleeping a good eight hours, Harry made it to California by seven in the morning.

…

"Damnit!" Harry exclaimed for the third time while staring at Sunnydale High school, or at least the remains of it. Somehow it the few days Harry had been absent, the school had blown up, possibly with his chances of finding the people he met in the library. He didn't even know if they survived whatever destroyed the school. He didn't even know their names. Thankfully, he knew what Hermione would say in this situation: 'to the nearest library!' If only he knew where that was.


	5. Chapter 5

Willow excitedly speed walked down the sidewalk towards the public library. With the chaos in the aftermath of graduation, she had not had a chance to do much research on their mysterious visitor, who they still hadn't seen since he turned into a raven and flew away the day before graduation. Finally, today she would get a chance to look into him.

She stopped dead in her tracks a couple of blocks from the library with a small 'eep!'. Their mystery man sat on a bench in front of the library reading from a large book. Torn for a moment between running up to him babbling questions or calling Buffy to approach him with more people. Noticing a telephone booth half a block in front of her, she opted for the later.

"Ung, this better be important," Buffy grumbly answered on the 7th ring.

"Buffy, He's here! I found him!" Willow responded .

"Wills? Who?"

"Harry Potter."

"Where?" Buffy asked, her voice now alert.

"He's sitting on a bench in front…" she answers watching the boy through the glass, "wait, he just stood up. The book he was reading just disappeared!"

"Wills!" interrupted Buffy cringing at Willow's volume.

"He just went into the library."

"Stay there and watch the entrance, I'll call Giles and get over there."

Willow hung up and waited, watching the library door. Buffy jogged up a few minutes later.

"Giles will be here in 20 but we should go in now so we don't lose him", Buffy said.

"Great," Willow agreed, "I've been having a hard time not going in and questioning him before you got here."

They quickly walked to the library. Entering, they started scanning for Harry. Willow found him sitting at a table covered in several newspaper racks. He faced the door but looked engrossed in his reading, not noticing them. Willow tugged on Buffy's sleeve and pointed to Harry and they moved towards him.

His head shot up, eyes immediately finding them when they got within 10 feet. Buffy recognized that look, she had that look before, usually after a long night slaying. Thankfully, it turned into an almost too wide smile once he recognized them.

"We've been looking for you," Buffy said accusingly.

"I've only been back for four hours," Harry replied, glancing at his watch, "so quick work."

Buffy frowned slightly, "We've got questions."

"Wonderful, so do I, mostly for Red and," Harry looked past the girls pointing towards Giles with a nod, "the professor over there. Perhaps we can trade? Though it'd probably be better to do it in private."

"Red?" asked Willow, her cheeks darkening half a shade.

"Well," answered Harry sheepishly, "I don't actually know your names. Harry Potter." Harry extended his hand to Willow.

"Willow Rosenberg," Willow shook his hand, "and this is…"

"Buffy Summers," she said, taking Harry's hand firmly.

"And the professor?" Pointing to Giles who had just reached the group.

"Rupert Giles," said Giles extending his hand, "and I'm more of a librarian."

"Harry was wondering if we could find a more private place to talk." Willow said to Giles after Harry made his introduction.

Giles suggested his apartment and they arrived after a ten minute ride in Giles' Citroen. A frustrating ride for Willow as Harry refused to answer any question until they were inside the apartment. Giles opened the door letting Buffy and Willow enter, following them in. He turned to Harry, watching him, but not offering an invitation.

Harry paused at the open door for a moment and flipped on his magic sight, scanning for offensive wards. He could see several magical items in the main room and though there were some wards, they were more protective than offensive.

Smiling at Giles, Harry asked, "invitation, right?" He stepped over the threshold. "Some of your baddies need an invitation. Vamps?"

Giles nodded, "among other things."

Once they were all sitting in Giles living room, Harry started "before we get to questions I want to perform a spell to prevent eavesdropping," Harry held out his wand arm, "in going to draw my wand. I know you don't trust me yet, or I you, so I wanted to give a warning"

Seeing no objections, though Buffy did tense, Harry flicked his wrist, drawing his wand. Harry cast a muffalato charm as well as a repellent charm on the main door. His wand reholstered Harry said, "done. First thing I need to know is if there is a magical government and if so, what are their rules. I don't want to commit a mortal crime before I know it's a crime."

"There is no magical government, per se," Giles said after a moments thought, "there are smaller groups that police certain magics, but no mortal crimes. You've answered my…"

"Why is your first worry related to crime?" Buffy interrupted, "are you a criminal?"

"I never considered myself a criminal, though there were groups that considered me a one as I opposed them. I asked because…" Harry tilts his head, slightly embarrassed, "because of a novel. It was about another wizard named Harry and in his world, a certain branch of magic, common place where I come from, carried the death penalty. Not knowing the rules here, I don't want to get myself in a pickle."

"We have assumed," Giles spoke, "that you are not from around here, the potion you gave Oz had information on where it was created and by whom, but they don't exist here. How did you get here and can others follow?"

"Portal, they called it the Veil of Death, a doorway to the afterlife, but obviously," Harry held out his arms, "that isn't the case. When I walked through, I saw several different worlds. I would guess that the destination is random but it was a one way trip so I can't really test that theory. I doubt anyone from my world will even try to follow. The Veil is located in a heavily irradiated area and they don't know the spells to protect them from the radiation. I also set some traps just in case, including one that should destroy the Veil if others try and use it, but again, I couldn't test that theory. So tell me about the baddies?"

"Baddies?" Willow asked.

"You know, the forces of evil. I stumbled upon a law firm than has to be playing for the bad team in LA and had a chance to interrogate a vamp in London but she only got turned in the 70s so she didn't know much. She knew about some local vamp politics, where certain demons hang out and she also knew there was a vampire slayer, but not who or where she was."

The other three were quiet for a moment before Buffy said, "I'm the slayer."

Harry snapped his fingers, "that explains your aura. I couldn't figure out what the heck you were."

"You can see auras?" Willow excitedly asked. Her eyes widened, "that was why you stared at Buffy!"

"Sorry about that, I'd never seen an aura like yours," Harry replied sheepishly. He took off his glasses, activated the aura sight and handed them to Willow , "I know a spell that reveals them but my glasses are enchanted, I just activated the aura sight, take a look."

Willow took the glasses, looking at them nervously before putting them on. She looked at her hand, eyes widening, "I glow green!" She looks at Giles "you glow green too, though you have some dark patches."

Giles looked slightly abashed at that, but Willow turned to Buffy and gasped before he could say anything. "Wow", she said, staring at Buffy, "you're so bright and so dark, like a Yin Yang symbol. I can see why Harry stared."

Harry sighed and waved his hand in front of willow's face. She jumped back with an 'eep!' Harry's aura was a kaleidoscope of shifting colors moving over his body. Exclaiming, "holy cow!", and asked "why are you so many colors?"

"Wizards and witches from my world have complicated auras," he held out his empty left hand, "watch my hand."

Harry cast a lumos on his ring stone as slow as he could. Willow saw the colors on his hand stop moving before a light blue glow started to flow from his arm and collect in his hand. It grew, pushing all the other colors away before the stone on the inside of his ring started to glow like a flashlight. The blue glow receded until there was only a pulsating line from his finger and going up his arm. She followed it with her eyes. It met a pool of light blue in the center of his chest, just below his neck. Another smaller line went up his neck, forming a fine net over his head.

"It shows the flow of energy from my core to where the spell is focused. The light blue color is for magic we call charms. If you have those on in a combat situation you can get the edge by knowing what kind of spell they are casting but it usually happens much faster."

Buffy had a go with the glasses next and after looking at her hand for a few second turned to Harry saying, "I guess you aren't a creeper then."

"Thanks?" he replied with a slight smile.

Harry performed the same spell for her and then Giles took a look punctuated with a few 'good lord!'s' before handing them back to Harry.

Harry cancelled the charms and put the glasses back on. He asked about what being the slayer was about and got an abridged version of her and the Scoobies exploits including their most recent fight against the mayor.

"Damn!" Harry exclaimed after hearing of the deaths caused by the mayor, "If I had known I could have tried to help."

"You can't go back in time but you can help now. Why don't you come out on patrol with me tonight. I'd like to see how your mojo works against vamps."

"I was going to suggest that myself," Harry grinned, "I've got some transfiguration experiments I'd like to try out on a vamp."

"Transfiguration?" Asked Willow.

Harry unholstered his wand and grabbed a teaspoon from the table. "Transfiguration is the changing of an object's form in either material," Harry waved his wand over the spoon and it turned from metal into wood, "shape," with a wave of his wand the spoon turned back into metal, then reshaped itself into a dagger, "or both," one more wave of his wand the dagger shifted into a wooden stake.

Buffy snatched it out of his hand testing it's weight in her hand, nodding approvingly. "This feels just like wood."

"It is and it isn't," Harry said as Willow and Giles moved to inspect the stake, "for all intents and purposes it is wood, except if you staked a vampire with it, they wouldn't die. Tonight I want to discover if the opposite is true. If I transfigure a wooden stake into a dagger, will it kill a vamp."

"That is an interesting idea to look into," Giles said while testing the stake himself, "do you have any ideas for practical applications?"

"I have a few ideas," Harry answered while reaching into his coat pocket, "primarily this."

Harry pulled his hand out of his pocket holding his shrunken handgun, enlarging it while pointing it to the ceiling, "if a stake transfigured into a bullet kills vampires, a whole lot more people will have the power to take one on."

Giles eyes widened at the thought, "that could be quite devastating if used correctly, but I don't like the idea of anyone with a gun going after vampires, even with your bullets, assuming they work."

"I completely agree, they are too fast for a close ranged weapon like a handgun, but imagine a few snipers with these. I have also been looking into bullets infused with magical fire. I found some prototypes the USMRA were working on, they called them SHCs, spontaneous human combusters. When the round hits, it increases the temperature within half a foot of the bullet by 1000 degrees. I have tried to recreate them with some success, but they are way too dangerous to be allowed to circulate."

Wide eyed again, Giles agreed adding, "what is the USMRA?"

"US Magical Republic's Army. They were the Magical faction of the US Army on my world and the pinnacle of modern magical weapon research, but given that most magical societies were just this side of the victorians when it came to technology, they didn't have much competition."

"And they let you have access to their prototypes?"

"Nobody tried to stop me." This was true, but Harry omitted the fact that anyone with the authority to stop him were dead at the time. Harry shrunk and put his gun away, turning to Buffy, "I'm a much better shower than teller, so I can show you some of my more offensive abilities tonight."

Buffy grabbed a pen and paper, jotting down her address and directions. Handing it to Harry, she said, "come by at 10. That's a little early but I can show you the ropes first, I'll let those two interrogate you about your magic."

Buffy left soon after. Willow and Giles spent the next few hours asking Harry about magic on his world. In the end, Harry offered them a few introductory books. Willow had initially been put out when Harry explained that his magic was likely not something he could teach her but she perked up when offered books to learn more about it. Harry left around five to give himself time to find a place to pitch his tent and get a little sleep before patrolling.

…

Holland Manners stood in front of his Special Projects team with an impatient look on his face. It had been the better part of a week since they had been tasked with finding their mystery visitor and nearly every avenue they used to try and find him had failed. No match from any facial recognition databases or the DNA analysis preformed on the hair he had left behind when he literally disappeared were found. On the supernatural side all location charms using his hair had failed, some spectacularly and one lethally, the ritual circle constricting in on the practitioner like a car crusher. Scrying attempts had gotten closer, but most of the information their clairvoyants could discover about him was vague at best and often highly disturbing. Two of them were in seclusion, having seen too much. This was an occupational hazard but rare for it to happen at that frequency.

Manners didn't put much trust into scrying. It was too imprecise. One could only determine if they were seeing the past, present or future by context clues. If they saw the subject younger or older than they were at present or if the vision contains known historic events, they could discern the time period of the vision. Without information like that, it was impossible to tell.

Manners studied the findings, he was unhappy with his team, so letting them stew in silence while he did so would be helpful. 'Pain,' 'fire,' 'a giant snake,' 'a raven sleeping in a tree,' It was all nonsense to Manners. The most detailed vision involved a masked man walking through a destroyed and deserted London. Manners smiled when he read that. He hated Wolfram & Hart's London Branch.

The London Branch, Wolfram & Hart's first branch on this world. It even predated London having started in Camulodunum before the Romans made it to Briton. They guarded their territory like a miser his pennies and always tried to poach any opportunity they could. With no other choice, Manners had contacted them to gain access to their UK databases after the clairvoyant saw London destructed. Manners neglected to share that information, the destruction of London would be great for several of his clients and would remove a few people who were currently above Manners in the management flowchart. He wanted to see London burn even more when they came through with a name and address. Harry Potter, Godrick's Hollow.

"Our… London Branch has succeeded where you have failed," he stated looking at each of his team with disdain, "On the line is Archie Leach, the Head of Special Projects for London. Go ahead Mr. Leach."

"Thank you, Holland," the voice from the speakerphone said, "We have completed our initial assessment of the target. Harry Potter. 19. Student, Cambridge University. Just finished his first year. We have been following him for 24 hours and have found an anomaly. There are some sort of magic blocking our observers from seeing or entering his House. We have never seen anything like it, but we don't want to risk attempting to circumvent it. We don't know if it would alert those inside. Given the target's teleportation powers, we feel a direct confrontation is not optimal. We, I, have devised an alternative action."

The line was silent for a moment before Manners asked, "Explain?"

"From the target's phone records we found multiple calls since the start of summer holidays to the Granger Residence in Crawley. The Grangers have a daughter, Harry's age, who also studies at Cambridge. She is either his girlfriend or someone he desperately wants to be his girlfriend. We take her and Potter will come to us."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and follows. We are rapidly catching up with what I had prewritten so updates might slow a tad though I have a basic outline for the rest that I am following.**

Harry made it to Buffy's House 20 minutes early and walked around to the back yard. Finding a secluded spot, at least from the neighbors, he sat and started making more Portkeys. He needed a portkey in America if he wanted to make quick transatlantic round trips. He decided to make a double batch, let Buffy distribute them among her allies so they can always get to safety.

After he finished making the second portkey he heard the back door open and a voice he didn't recognize said, "can I help you?"

Harry stood up and turned to face the door. A middle age blonde woman stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. Harry assumed this was Buffy's mother but he didn't know if she was in the know about the supernatural.

"I was, uh… waiting for Buffy, we were going to go look at stars?"

The woman smiled at him, "is this before or after the slaying?"

That answers that, thought Harry. "Apologies for that, I'm too used to secrecy," he walked up to the porch, holding out a hand, "I'm Harry Potter, pleasure to meet you."

"Joyce Summers, I'm Buffy's mom. She told me about you, were you performing a spell back here? With tic-tacs?"

Harry grinned, holding up the box of mints, "yes to both, I spelled these with a transport spell. Once it is ready, if anyone were to bite into one they will find themselves in your back garden. Figured Buffy and her allies could use something to get them out of danger."

"That could come in handy Harry," Buffy's voice came from the stairwell, "thanks"

She entered the room, taking the offered box of tic-tacs. She wore all black, jeans and a tank top covered in a black leather jacket. Harry wondered about the boots, they had a modest heal, Harry never wore a heel, but he assumed it would easier to fight without them.

"They should be charged within a day or two. After that you can split them up into more boxes with other tic-tacs. They will transfer to the new ones. Just bite one to activate. Hope you don't mind, but I'm saving a box for myself. I need a destination mint on this side of the Atlantic."

"Atlantic," Joice asked, "what are the range of these?"

"Possibly limitless but this version can only be created at the site the spell will take you."

After a few minutes small talk, including an invitation to dinner the next time the 'Scoobie Gang,' as Buffy called her group, had a group dinner. Harry accepted politely before leaving with Buffy.

They walked toward the nearest cemetery as Buffy explained her usual patrol route, pointing out places of interest on the way. As they entered the cemetery Buffy explained that they were here to monitor a recent burial Giles suspected would rise as a vampire.

To Harry, this seemed the perfect opportunity to test his transfiguration theory, asking for a stake, Buffy handed over her backup which he transfigured it into a dagger. Handing it back he said, "try and use this against this vamp if you can. I'm really hoping this works."

Buffy looked dubiously at the dagger, "I'll try it. It better work since it's my butt on the line if it doesn't."

"I'm not without my own weapons," Harry flicked out his wand, holding it up and pushing enough energy into it to cause the end to crackle with lighting. He cast a silent blueball flame spell with his ring, holding his hand palm up, the flames pooled and dripped from his hand. Harry smiled, "you have to admit I look super cool."

"Way too much effort," Buffy scoffed playfully at Harry's antics, shaking her head. A rustling sound silenced Buffy's next comment. Their recently dead target started digging out of its grave.

Buffy moved to the shifting grave, dagger at the ready. Harry followed, still armed with his wand. The new vampire's hand had just breached the surface, followed by another as it began digging itself out. Once it's head was free, it looked up at Buffy like a predator.

She smiled back at him saying, "hurry up, buddy. I'm giving a tour tonight and I don't have time for lollygaggers."

The vampire, who had twisted his upper torso free, stopped for a moment, his predatory scowl replaced with one of confusion. Harry gave her the same look.

She looked at Harry, "What?" She asked, suddenly self conscious, "is lollygagger not proper enough for the queens english?"

Harry held up his hands in surrender, chuckling "nothing of the sort," smiling wistfully, "I'm usually the person who's grammar is getting corrected. My friend Hermione was merciless about correcting our grammar."

Harry's smile became genuine, thinking of Hermione, before those thoughts turned to her death and his smile faded into pain.

"Harry, its about time,"

Buffy's voice woke him from his unhappy thoughts. He looked to the vamp, seeing him just free his left leg from the ground. The now unencumbered vampire immediately rushed Buffy. Harry readied his wand but fought his urge to stop the vamp. He knew she was the slayer but thinking of Hermione made him less willing to risk losing another friend, even a relatively new one.

Buffy waited until the fledgling vamp got within range and hit him with a blazing fast roundhouse kick to the side of the head, knocking him into a headstone. Before he could move, Buffy grabbed the back of his head with her left hand, slamming it against the headstone twice. She held his head down, stabbing the vamp's heart from behind with the transfigured dagger. The vamp burst into dust.

Buffy stumbled, she hadn't exactly expected Harry's dagger to work so she was leaning heavily into the vampire. She caught herself on the tombstone and examined the dagger.

Harry whooped, jumping into the air pumping his fist. "That was fantastic," he said, "I'm going to transfigure a few bullets before my next encounter.. And you," he smiled at Buffy, "were equally fantastic. I've never seen someone move so fast, he didn't even touch you."

"He was easy, most vamps, even newly turned ones, are harder to kill." She held up the dagger, "is this going to change back at some point?"

"Yeah, I'd guess in a few months. I can reapply the spell then if you like."

"I would. They won't see it coming," Buffy stowed the dagger. "We should move on, this isn't a hot spot, other than the new one I just dusted."

"Great" said Harry as he holsters his wand and followed Buffy, "I would love to get a chance against the next one. I'm curious about their speed verses my spells."

"You said you took one out in London, didn't you see her speed?"

"That was luck," Harry held out his arm, pointing to his watch, "that yellow flashing light is supposed to turn red when the wearer is in mortal danger. It doesn't work perfectly, but when it turns red at three in the morning in a phone booth on a deserted street when someone suddenly starts banging on the door, you pay attention. I cast first and ask questions later. She was unconscious before she knew I attacked her."

"Surprise is smart," replied Buffy, "I'll hang back a bit for the next one, but I'll be right here if they get the upper hand."

"Don't worry. This might be my first tumble with one of this world's vampires but it isn't my first fight," he pointed to his duster, "and I am wearing my armor."

Buffy shook her head, "leather won't offer much protection."

Harry' chuckled at that . She looked at him, annoyed, but before she could say anything Harry said, "this isn't just leather, it's leather made from the wing of a dragon and I enchanted it to be even more resistant. It cushions impacts, not as much as I'd hoped, but enough to be able to take a bullet without breaking the skin. I'd get a nice bruise but wouldn't bleed."

Buffy turned to examine the coat as they walked. After a moment she punched Harry lightly in the arm. He didn't react so she punched him harder. He turned, smiling, "Felt like a pat on the arm."

"A vampire is going to hit harder than that," she smiled, cracking her knuckles, "should we test it at that level."

"I don't think that's necessary," Harry shook his head, "I wouldn't want you to hurt your hand."

Buffy started to respond but a scream coming from the next alley interrupted her. She looked to Harry but he had already started running towards the scream, wand out. She immediately followed, catching up as he turned the corner into the alley.

They found a female vampire feeding on the neck of struggling college age girl from behind while muzzling her with a hand. The victim's eyes widened upon seeing Buffy and Harry. She started struggling in earnest. The vampire, noticing this, looked up and stopped feeding, flashing an evil grin at the newcomers.

"You should wait your turn," she said, licking her blood smeared lips, "I love feeding on couples."

"We're not a couple," both Harry and Buffy said in unison. They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment before the vampire's laugh brought them back.

"And you're not going to be feeding on anything ever again," said Harry as he thrust his left hand forward yelling, "accio victim!"

The girl flew out of the vampire's grasp towards Harry, the shocked vampire tried to grab her back but just missed. Harry caught the flying girl in his left arm, spinning to place his ready wand arm forward. Flames shot out of wand, racing towards the vamp.

The vampire leapt out of the way and tried to escape down the alley. Harry conjured a wall of flames to prevent her escape. The trapped vamp turned and started to run towards Harry and Buffy. Buffy stepped in front of Harry, aiming a roundhouse kick at her skull.

The vamp ducked under the kick and grabbed Buffy from behind. Buffy elbowed her in the chest, spinning around to face her, a fist flying towards the vamp's face. It connected, knocking her back.

Buffy took advantage, planting a kick into the vamp's chest before stabbing her in the heart with the dagger, dusting her.

The danger over she turned to look at Harry. He waved his wand around causing the flames to all die before carefully setting the now unconscious girl on the ground. He waved his wand over her neck causing the fang wounds to close.

"I think she will be Ok," he said, "you are more familiar, was the vampire feeding on her a dangerous length of time?"

"She would be more pale," she replied, "stopping the bleeding should be enough. Good move with getting her away from the vamp but your fire was too slow."

"Yeah," Harry shrugged, "that wasn't the best choice of spells, I'll admit, though the wall of flames worked. I'm going to wake her up now."

Harry put his left hand onto the girl's forehead, pulling it back when her head started to move. She opened her eyes, gasping, her head darting around like a startled animal. Her eyes focused on Harry and she started scrambling back.

Harry held up his hands and said, "you're safe now," pointing at Buffy, "she took care of the thing that attacked you."

She calmed a little, asking, "What was that?"

"I'm not going to lie to you, that was a vampire," Harry continued before she could interrupt, "I understand that this is shocking and you won't want to believe it, but it's true. That said, if you want, I can make you forget tonight if you would like, but just because you won't remember the monsters, doesn't mean the monsters go away."

After moment of indecision she decided not to have Harry fiddle with her memories but she did accept a walk back to her apartment, peppering Harry and Buffy with questions on vampires.

As they dropped the girl off Buffy said, "I'm surprised you told her the truth, given how cagey you've been with your own secrets."

"On my world there was a law requiring secrecy from muggles, what they called people without magic, so it becomes second nature," his expression darkened, "but I also know what it is like to be lied to about important things, so I try to tell the truth… if I'm able."

"Generally a good rule, but some people just can't handle the supernatural."

"I did offer to wipe her memory but I'm glad she didn't accept, taking just a few memories is quite difficult and there's no one but me with the ability, so if I screw up, there's no expert available to fix it."

"Well, no messing around with my memory, mister," Buffy said, poking Harry in the arm.

"I'd never modify someone's memory without their consent… except enemies." Harry grinned at her, "but both of us are on the side of the angels so I don't see that happening."

"Even though we are on the same side, I think we should spar sometimes. I'd like to see what your magic can do."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Harry shook his head, "I'm not much of a physical fighter, the wizards of my world fought almost exclusively with their wands, so it would be a quick fight if you got close enough. I haven't had a friendly duel in years, I'd worry that my fight or flight instincts could kick in. That happened to me in LA and I ended up in a field in Scotland."

"You apparated there?" She asked, "that is what you called it, right?"

"Yes and yes," Harry replied, offering Buffy his arm, "you know, I can take passengers. Grab my arm and I'll pop us to the end of the block. It doesn't hurt, just feels like being squeezed"

Buffy shook her head, "I don't know."

"Perfectly safe, watch." Harry turned on the spot disappearing with a pop and reappearing at the end of the block. He waved his hands before turning, disappearing and reappearing with a pop next to Buffy, offering his arm, "See, still got my arms and legs, fingers too, you have to be curious."

"Fine," Buffy said, grabbing Harry's arm, "but it better not mess with my hair."

"Hold tight," Harry said, before twisting and appareling.

Buffy held tighter as she felt herself being squeezed into and out of a tube. Suddenly she found herself where Harry had popped to a second before.

Harry winced at her grip on his arm, "tad tight there."

"Sorry," Buffy said, removing her hand from his arm, "that was uncomfortable."

"It gets easier every time."

…

A few minutes later they reached the next cemetery.

"This one tends to be a bit more active," Buffy said, "If we run into a loner, I'll let you test your spells against it, but if it's a group, I'm taking the lead."

"OK mum," Harry replied mockingly. "I learned from the fire, I won't be so useless this time. Promise."

They walked through the cemetery quietly, looking for any activity, finding it quickly.

A middle age man in a dirty suit stood over a recently disturbed grave staring at the headstone. Buffy, noticing him first, put her arm in front of Harry, stopping him, and pointing to the vampire. He nodded in return and they started forward slowly, weapons out.

As they got closer, the vampire took a large breath through his nose and started to chuckle. He turned his head towards them saying, "It's amazing, like I've never really used my nose before. Now that I'm dead, it is like a whole new world. I could smell the two of you before you entered the cemetery and let me tell you, you smell delicious. I sure hope you taste the same."

The vampire's words hung in the air a moment, neither side making the first move. Finally, Harry broke the silence, "I've never understood the need for the villainous monologue. We get it. You're a vampire. You're scary. You want to suck our blood," Harry said the last line in a Dracula accent, "There's no need for the creepy speeches. Back where I'm from we had a guy like that. Not a vampire though, he had a fraction of a soul and he loved to drone on and on before he tried to kill me. I loved nothing more than to inter…"

Harry thrust his wand forward, a jet of red shooting from the tip towards the vampire. He jumped over the spell with a flip. Landing on his feet, his head shook and vamped out before he starting to run towards Harry.

Harry's arm never stopped moving, shooting more and more jets of different color lights. The vampire slowed to dodge them using his superhuman agility. The lights coming from Harry's wand all shifted to the same turquoise color and he started shooting them faster.

Buffy spared a glance at Harry's face, not knowing how taxing his display of magic would be for him. He didn't appear to be getting tired though completely focused on the fight, his green eyes almost glowing while they flitted back and forth as he aimed his spells. Harry's eyes stopped moving, a predatory smile appearing on his face. Buffy looked to the vampire, finding him moving at a snails pace towards them. A purple light hit the vampire's chest and it's foot suddenly shot into the air, stopping with the vampire's head a foot off the ground. It continued to slowly grab out towards them though it was well out of range.

"Well, it looks like I have a strategy against a single vamp now," Harry said after taking a big breath, "the trick is slowing them down."

"That's what the turquoise spell did?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, it slows the target down just a little bit but it is quick and easy to cast. I could do that all day without breaking a sweat." Harry walked up to vamp, staying out of its grasping range, "he'll stay like this for an hour or so, plenty of time to dispose of him safely. One more theory I'd like to test."

Harry held out his left hand, palm out, aimed at the vampire and said "Lumos Solum."

A blinding beam of light shot out of his palm right through the vampire's stomach, vaporizing a fist size hole. The light disappeared as soon as it arrived, both Harry and Buffy stared at the damage it did. The vampire screamed and thrashed in slow motion as if felt the hole in its stomach with its panicked, but almost comically slow moving, hands.

Harry slapped his hands together, cackling "It's like a vampire death ray!" He noticed that the vampire wasn't dead yet, "or it will be when I aim correctly."

Aiming his hand at the struggling vampire's heart, he tried to cast it silently. The beam was much less powerful and it took a few seconds before the vampire dusted.

"What was that spell?" asked Buffy, shocked.

"Sunlight spell, harmless to humans, except for sunburns and maybe cancer," Harry replied, casting it again at his arm to show it was harmless.

"Good," she exhaled, "I don't want to have to worry about friendly fire."

"That's one of the reasons I avoid certain spells when fighting with an ally." Harry said, "I'm going to have to get used to that again."

Buffy noticed that his eyes were full of unshed tears and decided to change the subject, "any vamps that were here, likely ran when they saw what you did to Mr. Dusty here, we should call it a night. Can you squeeze us back to my house? I'd like to find out if the second time is easier."

Harry offered his arm and apparated them to the Summers' back garden.

"I was going to give Willow a demonstration of some of my spells here at noon," Harry said, "you are more than welcome to join us, but a lot of the spells I'm planning to show her are nowhere near as cool as what I did tonight"

"Way to undersell it. I'll be here," Buffy replied, grinning, "someone has to make sure you don't burn down my house."

…

Buffy and Willow sat on a bench in Buffy's back yard, chatting, when Harry arrived at the Summers' residence. He decided to make a show of his entrance. He never had a chance to show off his magic to muggles in his old world. Without loving muggle relatives or a desire to break the statute of secrecy, it would have been impossible. No law to stop him from showing off now.

Harry cast a weak muggle repelling charm between two dumpsters in the alley behind Buffy's house. The weak spell would dissipate quickly, no need to leave areas muggles would avoid. He shifted into his raven form and took flight, circling Buffy's house before landing on the roof.

"So, How did Harry do last night?" he heard Willow ask. He knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping, but his paranoia got the better of him.

"Once he figured out what spells worked best against vampires he did fine," Buffy replied, "I'm still worried about him. He will say something or get a far away look in his eye that just…"

"He mentioned something about the portal he came through being in an irradiated area," interrupted Willow, "maybe there was a nuclear war"

"Maybe, whatever happened there it had to be something horrible. He's a fighter though, I could tell from the way he stood his ground against the last vamp we took on."

"Broody with a dark past but he fights for the light? Sounds like your type of guy…"

Well, now seems to be a good time for my entrance, thought Harry, quickly shifting into his human form and casting a wide area cushioning charm on Buffy's back yard. He shifted back just as quick.

"Wills, what's wrong?" he heard Buffy ask before he took off. Willow must have sensed the spell he cast. He'd have to test that.

When he reached about 100 feet in the air he centered himself over his cushioning charm and shifted back to human form and fell like a rock. He cast an arresto momentum on himself at 10 feet, landing with bent legs on the extra soft ground.

"Ladies," he said with a grin, "you did ask me to drop in at noon, yes?"

The girls both groaned at that. "Impressive entrance, but you lost all style points with the pun." Buffy said with a smirk.

A dam broke in Willow's mind and she peppered Harry with questions. He spent the next several minutes explaining the spells he used.

Finally, she asked, "how did you get so high in the first place?"

"He turned into a huge crow," Buffy answered before he could, "just like the night before graduation."

"Raven, not huge crow," Harry corrected, almost pouting, "but yes, it is my animal form. There is a ritual some witches and wizards go through that allow us to access our inner animal and shift into that form at will."

"So cool!" Said willow, continuing a little quieter, "can we see your animal form?"

"Sure, but remember I'll be a bird so be gentle."

Harry stood, transforming into a raven and hopped up to land on the picnic table. After using a second to get used to his surroundings with his now heightened senses, he looked right at Willow and croaked, "nevermore."

Willow eeped, jerking back. Harry laughed in his normal voice, "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Ravens are great… at mimicking sounds… so i can basically converse… but with tiny lungs."

Willow stepped forward examining Harry's bird form, asking "how long can you stay like this?"

"Indefinitely," Harry quirked his head, listening to the scurrying of some far off squirrel, "longest I've spent is 48 hours. Ravens need less food and sleep."

Harry noticed a shiny button on the cuff of Buffy's shirt and tried to grab it with his beak. He jumped back when she pulled her arm away. Shaking his head, Harry hopped off the table and shifted back.

"Sorry about that," Harry said to her, slightly flushed, "the animal instincts sometimes take over. Ravens are attracted to shiny things like your button and the more time I spend in my animal form, the more those instincts come forward. I just happened to spend most of a day as a raven recently. So what do you want to see next?"

Harry spent the next few hours showing the girls various spells. Spells that could be used in combat most interested Buffy though she tuned out discussions of theory and non combat magics, except the hair care and personal grooming spells, though Harry only knew a few. Willow's enthusiasm for it all reminded Harry of Hermione, sometimes painfully so.

Harry had just cast his patronus for the girls, who were basking in the uplifted feelings it created, when the underside of his watch started to vibrate. Harry flipped his wrist, staring at the red stone on the watchband. The Potters were in danger. Harry's patronus faltered and he sprung into action pulling out his box of Potter home tic-tacs before looking up at his audience.

"I have to go, it's an emergency," he said as he popped a mint in his mouth. He shook another from its container offering it to Buffy, "if I'm not back in 45 minutes eat this and try to save them, please"

He didn't wait for a response, disillusioning himself with a flick of of his wand, he bit down on the tic-tac and disappeared.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry appeared in the Potters' back garden with a modest pop. Night had fallen in Godric's Hollow and he could see the other Harry having an animated conversation with his parents through the back window. His other self looked agitated, pacing back and forth.

Harry activated the aura sight on his glasses. The five inhabitants of the house glowed with the soft yellow light of non-practitioners. Beyond the house, two dark auras sat next to each other, likely in a vehicle, one a vampire and the other an unknown with a deep red aura. Demon maybe? The wards were still up so they weren't a threat to the Potters, at least yet. He could deal with them later.

Double checking his dissolution spell, Harry silenced his footfalls and made his way closer to the window.

"Calm down, Harry, honey," He heard Lily say to his other self while rubbing his back soothingly, "you said the Granger's called the police. It's their job to find missing persons. Can you think of anyplace she could have gone…"

"She wouldn't have gone anywhere without telling someone," other Harry interrupted, slapping the counter in anger, "you know Hermione, she is a stickler for the rules. Someone must have taken her, she has to be in danger!"

Harry felt his heart sink to his toes and tuned out the Potter's voices. This world's Hermione missing and possibly kidnapped and there were a pair of baddies in a car outside the Potters. That couldn't be a coincidence. Someone was targeting other Harry, but why?

The answer hit Harry like a ton of bricks. They were not targeting his other self, they were targeting him and went after the wrong Harry.

But who? Deatheaters from his own world couldn't have followed him and if they somehow did, they would have caused a scene in Sunnydale that Buffy's gang would have mentioned or, god forbid, they would have brought the Scottish Flu to this world. Harry hadn't had the time to really make enemies here… An icy jolt of fear ran up his neck. Wolfram & Hart. The demon security guard saw him and there could have been cameras. A giant evil law firm could easily have the resources to trace his face to the other Harry. They had Hermione and it was Harry's fault.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. He had to save Hermione and he had to protect the Potters, a panic attack helped neither. His breathing finally controlled, he started to plot.

Wolfram & Hart either couldn't enter the Potter's house or didn't want to risk Harry disappearing like he did in LA. As his wards were still active, Harry assumed the former.

The Wards, the fucking Wards, Harry thought. Not being able to find or enter the house would have only made them want to find Harry more. How could he be so stupid? So reckless?

Taking a deep minty breath, Harry realized what he had to do. He cancelled the charms hiding his presence and walked to the Potter's back door. Steeling himself for a moment, expecting a very awkward conversation. He tried to will away the fear from his face. Replacing it with as much confidence as he could muster, he knocked on the back door.

The muffled conversation inside ceased immediately as all three Potters turned to look at him through the window in the door with increasingly confused looks on their faces. no-one made a move to open the door.

With a quiet sigh and a silent unlocking charm, Harry opened the door and entered the house.

"Hey… who… wha…" James started to say as he gently pushed himself protectively in front of Other Harry and Lily while staring at Harry with the open eyed confusion e shared with his wide and son.

"Now is not the time for questions, Mr. Potter," Harry interrupted bruskly, focusing his eyes on James' nose to avoid the inevitable breakdown looking him in the eye would have brought, "the people who have Hermione will be after Harry as well. I will protect your family and get Hermione back, but we have to go now. Your daughters are listening from the top of the staircase, you should call them down."

James just stared at Harry before the sound of feet on stairs stole his attention. The Potter's daughters, both dressed in pajamas, stopped on the stairs when they saw the second Harry. The youngest pointed to Harry and yelled "Birdman! Birdman!"

This turned everyone's attention back towards Harry who fought to no roll his eyes.

"There will be time for question and answers later. You two should get dressed," he said to the girls on the stairs, "quick as you can."

Once the girls retreated upstairs and ignoring the other three, Harry turned around and conjured a 10 foot length of rope and turned it into a portkey. He holstered his wand and began to tie loops in the rope, but stayed with his back to the other Potters, staring out the window. He needed to keep himself focused, to not think about his quasi-reunion with his parents.

"Why do you look like Harry?" Lily asked, breaking the silence.

"You wouldn't believe me," replied Harry, shortly, continuing to stare out the window, "and we don't have the time for this conversation."

"Who has Hermione? Where is she?" asked the other Harry.

"An evil law firm and I don't know… yet."

Harry turned around when he heard the girls coming down the stairs and held out the rope to James.

"Everyone put a hand through a loop and hold on tight, it is vitally important that you don't let go"

James took the rope and the Potters began to comply. The ease of getting them to follow his orders shocked Harry. He hoped it was some sort of instinctual, familial bond of trust in a stressful time but a part of him worried he was subconsciously bending them to his will with his magic, he pushed that thought down. There would be time for guilt and recrimination when the Potters were safe.

"OK, tell the people there when you arrive that I will be back soon and it's always best to bend your knees when you land," Harry said once everyone had synched the rope over their wrists, "Gryffindor."

The Potters disappeared as the portkey activated.

Harry stood in the now silent kitchen for a moment collecting his thoughts, then sprang into action. He first cast a trio of concealing charms: disillusioned himself, silenced his feet & masked his scent then moved to the front of the house. A van was parked across the street where Harry's glasses had shown the vampire and demon sitting. The drivers side window was rolled down, the burning cherry of a cigarette visible in the drivers hand.

Exiting the Potter home, He made his way toward the van, flipping his aura sight on and off to confirm that the van was still occupied. He then switched on the magic sight, the van could be warded and it would pierce the demon's glamor. Nothing in the van showed enchantment though Harry got a look at the demon's true form. It had ram's horns and reptilian skin but Harry couldn't tell the color in the evening light.

He paused beside the van to consider strategy. He wanted to take them alive for interrogation, limiting him to non-lethal spells. In his pouch of pilfered magical toys he had a Vehicle Immobilator. A creation of the Japanese Mystical Shogunate, it was a fist size black plastic cube with rounded edges that attached to a vehicle and sent two magical waves through it: one that disables the electrical system in the car and the other stunning anyone touching the car, inside or out.

Harry hadn't had a chance to use it before, Death Eaters don't drive cars, so he had no clue what effect it would have on a vampire or a demon. At best, it would be his backup so he palmed it in his left hand.

He knew a few spells to confine a demon, but would they work with this universe's demons? Now was not a time for such experimentation.

In the end, Harry decided to keep it simple. He cast a repellant charm over the van to keep others from interrupting his work, watching the van's occupants to see if they sensed the magic. Seeing no change in their demeanor, he cast his strongest, wide area, stunner at them through the open window with a yell of "stupify!"

The blazing red spell shot from his wand, splashing against both the vampire and demon. The vampire slumped forward against the steering wheel but the demon only slumped for a second before shaking the effects off. It looked towards the vampire and started shaking his shoulder to wake him.

Harry cast another stunner, just as strong but focussed only on the demon. It slumped again, this time staying down a few more seconds before groggily shaking its head.

It ignored its fallen partner and looked straight in Harry's direction with an angry scowl that morphed into confusion. Harry's charms still hid him.

The demon's head darted back and forth for a moment before he picked up a radio from the console. Time for plan B, Harry tossed the immobilizer onto the side of the van. It landed with a quiet thunk, sticking to the side of the van. The side facing out flashed red and then purple before flashing green three times.

Harry held his breath for a moment. Was that it? Did it work? He focused back on the demon, readying his wand. It held the radio five inches from its mouth but wasn't moving it any closer. It wasn't moving at all and neither was the vampire who remained slumped against its seatbelt.

Easing closer to the van's door, Harry kept his wand pointed at the demon through the open window while he pulled the device off the van and stashed it. The demon was still as a statue except for its eyes that flitted back and forth in a panic. Harry expected the device to stun the occupants but it looked like the name immobilizer was literal, unfortunately he didn't exactly know how long it would last. He would have to act fast.

With the demon's mouth frozen, Harry opted for Legilimency, loath as he was to see into a demon's head but he needed to find Hermione. He canceled his dissolution charm and rapt his hand on the side of the van. The demon focused it's eyes on Harry, radiating seething rage.

Harry shot the demon a small smile, keeping his wand focused on it, waving with his left hand, "Legilimens!"

A series of images too fast to fully observe flashed through Harry's mind. Most involved the demon hurting and killing people, thoughts likely at the forefront of its mind. It would love to kill Harry for putting it in such a vulnerable position. Harry could have guessed that, he needed specific information.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

The images shifted to a large office. The demon stood next to the vampire across an ornate wooden desk from a tall, thin middle aged man wearing a tailored suit sat. A nameplate on the desk read Archibald Leach: Director Special Projects London Branch. Behind him, wall to wall windows showed the Thames and London on a cloudy day.

"It should be a routine surveillance operation," the man said in a very upper class accent, "but this is a high priority target so we are dispatching a tactical team to the area. Follow heightened procedure three in regard to maintaining radio contact with the Tac Team. I know 30 minute checks are an annoyance but we are dealing with an unknown. Here is the data we have so far."

The man pushed two manila folders across the desk.

Harry broke the connection. He had no idea how long it had been since they checked in with the Tac Team or how near the team was. Not being here when they showed up seemed prudent and Harry still needed to make sure these two couldn't talk.

Quickly scanning the cab of the van, Harry saw a manila folder sitting on the center console. He reached over the demon to grab it, keeping his wand pointed towards its face. It's eyes tracked Harry's movement but the spell still prevented it from moving.

Folder in hand, Harry cast a cutting curse aimed at the demon's neck. A three inch long gash opened on it's neck, pale pink blood pouring out of it. The demon's eyes burned with rage, staring daggers at Harry.

Harry cast it again, pushing more magic into the spell. The demon's neck almost completely severed and it's eyes rolled back in it's head. Harry assumed it was dead.

A jet of flame leapt from Harry's wand as he pointed it towards the vampire. The fire quickly consumed it. Suddenly, the fire rapidly burst outward. Harry blocked his face with his arm but was blown off of his feet by the explosion. Thankfully, his duster cushioned the fall and he quickly got back to his feet.

Fire covered the entire cab of the Van and the explosion had blown out the windshield. The fire consuming the demon had a purple hue, it's movement seemed faster than the rest of the fire as well. Was the demon's blood flammable?

Several pairs of headlights appearing down the street prevented Harry from further thought on this. He reapplied his concealment charms and dashed back towards the Potter's house. Only turning back to look once he passed the wardline.

Three SUVs pulled to a quick stop in the middle of the road in front of the Potter's house. All the doors opened and men dressed in all black swarmed out, sweeping the area with large guns. The men ignored both the Potter's home and the burning van. Harry didn't realize the strength of the concealment charms he applied to the van. Usually the fire would have broken it.

Harry watched for a moment longer before tossing a Tic-Tac into his mouth and letting the portkey take him back to Sunnydale.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Apologies for the significant delay. It happens. The good news is that I have had almost all the chapters of this arc finished for quite a while, at least in their first drafts. I'm going to try and edit them and add them, though I'm hesitant to give a schedule with other obligations and the like**

 **Thanks for all the favorites, follows and reviews.**

Meanwhile, in Sunnydale moments after Harry left.

Both Willow and Buffy stared at the spot Harry just disappeared from before Willow turned to Buffy asking, frantically, "What do we do?"

"I'm going to weapon up," replied Buffy, moving towards the back door, "set a timer on your watch for 45 minutes."

Willow set the timer and paced back and forth waiting for Buffy's return. She did so in a few minutes carrying an ax in one hand and a lumpy gym bag in the other which she dropped on the picnic table with a loud thunk.

"Now we wait," asking Willow "How much time left?"

"Thirty-five minutes"

"I hate waiting," pouted Buffy.

A few minutes later, Willow felt Harry's unique brand of magic. After an hour or so of his earlier display, she had sensed something when he cast spells, just a tingle at the back of her neck but she was feeling it now. She shot up from her seat, looking around.

"I think Harry's coming back," she said, "I can feel his magic."

Buffy perked up at that, jumping up from where she was sharpening her ax, taking the weapon with her.

Suddenly they heard screams coming from the corner of the backyard. Several people appeared there a few feet off the ground. Falling into a tangle on the grass, their screams turned to groans.

"Harry?" Buffy asked as she approached the pile, ax ready.

"Yes?" Came a muffled voice from under the pile.

"Harry, who are these people?" She continued, lowering her ax a little.

Willow caught up to Buffy and got a better look at their new visitors. Two of them extricated themselves from the tangle, a woman and a young girl, both with dark red hair and similar features. Their left hands looped into a rope that connected them to the others in the pile. The older woman helped the young girl out of the loop. Two more people still covered Harry, a man and a teenage girl, both with dark hair but they were lying face down so she couldn't get a good look.

Grabbing Buffy's arm, she pointed towards the young girl. Buffy's eyes widened and she took the hint, hiding the ax behind her back.

The man pulled himself off Harry with a groan, shielding his eyes from the late afternoon sun. He helped the teen girl up.

"You look just like Harry," exclaimed Buffy.

He turned, noticing Buffy and Willow for the first time, answering with a wry smile "of course I do, I'm his father."

"Father? I don't understand, he's only been here for a week" said Buffy with a confused expression on her face.

"Does somebody need a refresher on the birds and the bees?" He replied, his smile growing in amusement at his own joke.

This comment was met with a "dad!" from Harry, as he finally stood, and "James!" From the woman, who hit him playfully in the arm before pulling his hand from the rope.

Harry turned towards Willow and Buffy. Willow immediately realized something was off. First, the Harry that left 15 minutes ago wore a leather duster and boots while the Harry in front of them was dressed in a sweater, jeans and sneakers. He carried himself differently as well. Harry almost reminded her of Buffy in this regard. He was a warrior. His eyes watched his surroundings looking for danger, projecting an air of confidence. This Harry, while he looked almost exactly like the one she knew, was just a boy.

Judging by Buffy's confused staring at this Harry, she hadn't made the same leap in logic.

Harry looked decidedly uncomfortable under her attention. He looked at Willow and said, "The person who sent us, the guy who looks just like me, wanted you to know he would be back soon."

"Oh!" Replied Buffy, turning to Willow and asking, "this is Here Harry, right?"

"Here Harry? I don't even know where here is," said Harry before Willow could answer.

"I think where we are is only one of about a million questions I'd like answers to," said the woman, "I'd really like to know how we got here."

"And why that boy looked like Harry?" Interjected the man, looking at Buffy and Willow expectingly.

"Um," started both Willow and Buffy before they looked awkwardly towards each other.

"You are in Sunnydale, California," Buffy answered after a moment.

"We should probably wait until Ha- wait until he gets back and let him explain things," added Willow.

Silence reigned before the little girl asked, "is that an ax?" pointing towards Buffy who still held her ax behind her back.

"We were… chopping some wood" answered Willow after sharing a startled glance with Buffy.

"Chopping wood?" asked the man, smirking, "with no wood?"

"I knew we forgot something," replied Willow, snapping her fingers, "we never introduced ourselves. I'm Willow Rosenberg and this is Buffy Summers."

"I'm James Potter, this is my wife Lily," he replied pointing towards the woman who nodded but still looked at the girls suspiciously. "our son Harry and daughters Ivy & Rose. Now I'd really like to know what you are doing with that ax—"

"Beverages!" Willow interrupted, "would any of you like a beverage?"

She turned to Buffy, "doesn't your mom have some tea for when Giles stops by?"

"We don't need any tea," Lily stated, "we just need answers."

"A person who looks just like our son," she continued, agitated, pointing at Harry, "broke into our home, said we were in danger and sent us here somehow."

"He also said Hermione was kidnapped by an evil law firm," added Harry.

"Um..." Buffy started, shaking her head, "he told us there was an emergency and left. We don't know anything about evil law firms."

"He mentioned an evil law firm in Los Angeles," added Willow, "but he didn't go into details."

"Who is he?" Harry asked, "why does he look like me?"

Willow and Buffy looked at each other for a moment, hoping the other would answer that question.

"He told us he'd be here soon, dad," Ivy said, breaking the silence, "we can ask him when he gets here."

"We will ask him a lot of things when he gets here," added Lily.

"He better hurry," said Buffy, "he asked me to follow him if he's not back soon. What's the timer say Wills?"

"Twenty-five minutes to go."

"I really hate wa–"

"Buffy, something's coming again," Willow interrupted, feeling Harry's magic.

Buffy stepped past the Potters and turned towards the corner of the yard they had appeared in, readying her ax just in case. Harry materialized just above the ground, spinning into a crouch, wand in hand, facing the back corner.

Harry turned towards the group, squinting in the sun. A quick touch to the side of the glasses darkened the lenses. He looked over the group, smiling predatorily at the ax in Buffy's hands.

"I might need your help with a little ass-kicking, I've got a damsel in distress to save," he said, pointing toward the bewildered Potters, "I'm sorry about the unexpected guests but they were in danger. I was planning on stashing them in my tent until I fix this. Can I set it up here? It is quite small on the outside."

"Are they going to be tracked here?" Buffy asked.

"No," replied Harry, "there is no connection to this place and I can hide the tent from everyone we don't want to find it."

"That should be fine then."

Harry's arm disappeared into one of the pouches on his belt as he turned to address the Potters. "You will be safe here," he said, "and I'll be back once I've gotten Hermione back and made sure these bastards–"

"Language, Harry!" Lily interrupted as she covered her youngest daughter's ears, before looking down slightly abashed at scolding her son's doppelganger.

Harry looked Lily in the eye for the first time since arriving and his eyes narrowed, glassy with unshed tears. He held his mouth agape, lips quivering, trying to speak. With a shake of his head he looked to the ground and took a deep breath.

"As I was saying," he continued, his voice devoid of emotion, "you will be safe here until I fix this problem."

He pulled his arm out of his too small pouch, holding a softball size, square tent that he lobbed to the ground. Once the tent hit the grass, it ballooned to about six feet by six feet. It looked hideous, with alternating orange and purple horizontal stripes and a gabled roof that sported a similar design, with verticals stripes instead of the horizontal with a fringe hanging from its edge. Double doors made of dark wood took up most of the front side, both carved with the image of a man flying on a broom with his arm outstretched towards a small winged ball.

"You can see why I tend to hide it," Harry said, his voice hesitant, "a lot of wizards have horrible taste. I swear It looked like this when I found it."

Harry turned and walked away from the tent. "Give me a few minutes to hide it, the spell is quite complicated," he said, dropping to sit cross-legged on the grass on the other side of the yard.

Willow found the silence that followed unbearable. Lily stared at the boy who looked exactly like her son but wasn't, her eyes full of concern while the rest of her family sported dazed looks. Harry didn't seem to be in the right mind to give them the answers they needed but she didn't feel right sharing them. They were Harry's secrets, even if he couldn't look his parents from this universe in the eye without tearing up. She could discuss magic though.

"Magic," she said to no one in particular, "that's how he brought you here."

Everyone save Lily and Buffy turned to look at her, making the silence that much more unbearable.

"Magic doesn't exist," scoffed James.

Willow opened her mouth to rebut him but this world's Harry spoke first, "magic is real, dad. I've watched Hermione cast a spell, seen its effects."

Now all eyes were on this Harry. Willow couldn't help but ask "what did she cast?"

"She spends a lot of time in the library and she really loves old books," Harry replied, "she found some books about magic that had spells in them and tried one to create a flame in a bottle. It worked."

"Are you sure she wasn't just playing a prank on you?" asked Lily.

"This is Hermione, mom," he replied, rolling his eyes, "she doesn't really know how to prank."

"Hermione? Prank? Ha!" wizard Harry said, jumping to his feet, a genuine smile on his face.

The smile didn't last. He closed his eyes tightly a moment later, and looked down, the smile turning into a painful frown. Opening them, he looked back at the group, his mouth flat.

"All right, the tent is hidden," he said, his voice devoid of emotions, "nobody will be able to find it."

"What are you talking about," asked a confused Buffy, "what tent?"

The others shared her confusion. Willow did not understand what he was talking about.

"Why," Harry said, a ghost of a smile returning to his face, "the Wizard tent in the corner of the Summer's back garden."

He swept his arm dramatically, pointing past the group. An ugly tent appeared from nothingness on the spot. Just as suddenly, Willow's memory of seeing the tent earlier returned to her. She turned to Harry, wide-eyed.

"You hid our memory of the tent? Wow!" she said, "How?"

"Ideally, I would have set it up alone earlier so there would be no memory issues," he replied sheepishly, "I don't like messing with people's memory but time is of the essence."

He stepped past the group, opened the double doors on the front of the tent and stood to the side, motioning to the group.

"Come on in, Potters," he said, walking into the tent himself, "It's only got two guest rooms but the couch is quite comfortable."

The tent was much larger on the inside than the outside. The doors opened to a great room with a kitchen and dining room to one side of the room. A large table and several chairs made of the same dark wood as the doors took up most of the space in the dining area with a hutch full of China against the wall.

The Kitchen looked old with a cast-iron stove and sink but no refrigerator or any other modern appliances. A large pot sat on the stove with a kettle and mug on the kitchen table but other than that the kitchen counters were bare.

A large soft looking couch sat opposite the kitchen with a small television set on a low table next to the wall. A set of shelves next to the table displayed several photographs and nicknacks. A makeshift library occupied the rest of the room.

Willow's eyes widened upon seeing all of the leather-bound and old books on the shelves lining the walls. A desk covered in papers and an assortment of random items sat in the room's center. Disturbingly, a large metal box with a yellow radiation warning on the side balanced on the edge of the desk. There were also two doors on either side of the room and a single door on the far wall.

"Guest rooms are over there," Harry said, pointing at the two doors between the kitchen and dining areas, "and the facilities are in the back."

Walking into the kitchen area he opened a large double-doored cabinet. Inside, its shelves were full of large brown packages and a variety of different-sized cans and canisters.

"I don't have any fresh food in here but I have enough MRE's to feed a small army," He said, grabbing one of the packages, "Chicken Ala King. I'd avoid this one."

He moved towards the living room, pointing at the small TV. "No reception, but there are a lot of tapes," he said, opening the doors under the TV, "there are some video games here too if you like."

"Make yourself at home, I'll be back as soon as I get Hermione," he said, looking to the other Harry and asking, "does she live on the street in Hampstead with the church at the end?"

The Other Harry just nodded, mutely.

"Wonderful," Harry replied, clapping his hands together. He moved towards a cluttered desk in the library section, the only part of the room that was not immaculately clean, and pulled a beat up trunk from under a table and rummaged through it, finally pulling a dusty Tic Tac container from it.

Jumping to his feet, he looked at the area of the library he occupied. "Best to avoid this whole area," he said, "there shouldn't be anything lethal in my workshop but that doesn't mean there are no dangers."

"Buffy," he said, finding her inside the door, "I'm going to go find her. You want to come with or wait until I find her first?"

Buffy looked to Willow who nodded. "I can look after the Potters while you two are gone," Willow said,

"Great," replied Buffy, "let's go."

Harry offered his arm to Buffy. Once she took it, he popped one of the Tic Tacs from the dusty container into his mouth and the two disappeared.

Both Potter adults turned towards Willow, likely to inundate her with more questions but an outburst from their younger daughter temporarily saved her.

"Mum, look!" she exclaimed, pointing to a framed photo on a shelf next to the television, "It's Harry!"

The other Potters moved to look and Willow followed behind them. A young Harry, Willow guessed 12-13 years old, stood in the center of the photograph with his arms around a bushy-haired girl and a red-headed boy. They stood in a snowy field with a huge castle in the background and all three wore long black robes with red and gold crests on the breast.

More interesting than the subjects of the photograph was the fact that they were moving in a short loop. They start smiling brightly at the camera before the red-headed boy spoke several silent words, and the girl reached across Harry to swat his arm. Then it returned to them smiling brightly.

"That looks like Hermione," said Lily, "but I don't recognize the other boy."

"I've never worn anything like that," Harry added.

James picked up the photograph, examining the back of the frame.

"No batteries," he said, "what the heck is powering this screen?"

"James," said Lily, putting her hand on his shoulder, "in the last 20 minutes we met a doppelgänger of our son who transported us halfway around the world. We are at this moment in a tent that is much bigger on the inside than the out. I think we have seen enough to accept this as magic."

"I'm sorry, Lil," he replied, shaking his head, "this whole thing is just so confusing. We still don't know why he looks just like Harry."

"He is me," said Harry, holding another framed photograph, "or at least a different version of me. Look."

He turned the frame towards the others. The photograph featured a teenage James hugging an equally young Lily from behind. They wore the same robes that Harry and his friends wore in the first photo. The same castle stood in the background, though from a different angle.

"The other Harry must have come from a world where we lived in a giant castle," Harry added.

"Those weird robes could be some sort of uniform," said Lily, shaking her head, "the castle could be a school. You know your father and met in secondary school but it certainly wasn't in a castle."

"I don't see any pictures of Rose or Ivy," James said, scanning the shelves.

"We didn't exist there," said Ivy in a monotone, holding an open book out to Lily.

Lily took the offered book and began to read, almost dropping the book with a gasp.

"It says here that James and Lily Potter were murdered on Halloween in 1981 by 'He Who Must Not Be Named'" she read, almost in tears, "He cast a killing curse, whatever that is, at Harry but it rebounded."

James moved to hug his wife from behind. To Willow, their pose looked like a somber, older version of the photograph.

"I think I'm starting to understand why this other Harry can barely look at us," he said, "we are a version of the parents he never got to know."

…

Harry and Buffy appeared next to a hedgerow in a churchyard. It was night, the only illumination came from street lamps on the other side of the hedge.

Harry quickly looked around to get his bearings and walked down the hedgerow motioning Buffy to follow. At the end of the row, they reached a road lined with houses. Harry stopped again to get his bearings.

"Her house is this way," he said after a moment, pointing towards the left, "it's been a few years since I've been here on my world."

Harry turned and started down the road with haste, eyes focused forward, saying nothing. Buffy followed him but her silence lasted only a few steps.

"So…" she started, hesitating, immediately wishing she had said nothing, "this whole family thing. Awkward. How are you dealing with it?"

"I'm not," he replied, his tone short, "not yet at least. There'll be time to process when Hermione is safe and the bastards that took her have been... dissuaded from coming after me and mine again."

"They're after you?" she asked.

"And went after this world's Harry Potter instead of me," he replied, shaking his head, "but they couldn't get him because once I discovered my parents were alive here, I wanted to protect them."

"They went after Hermione instead," Buffy said, grabbing Harry's shoulder lightly, slowing him to a stop. "We will get her back and you already made sure your family is safe."

"Not my family," he answered without looking at Buffy and shrugging her hand away, "I should never have even looked for them."

"If you hadn't, they would have taken your other self," she said, trying to improve his mood, "you wouldn't even know it happened."

"True," Harry replied with a sigh, "I was sloppy in LA. This world was overwhelming and I let my defenses down too easily. Were I a little more cautious, none of this would have happened. I should have never left my world in the first place."

"Well, I'm glad you came," said Buffy, feeling a slight blush and hastily adding, "you can do a whole lot of good here."

"Let's hope Hermione and the Potters will feel the same way after all this," he said, coming to a stop and pointing down the block "that's her house."

The house he pointed at buzzed with activity. Three SUVs were parked on the street in front of it and the outside lights illuminated several large men wearing suits patrolled the yard, two of them standing guard on either side of the front entrance.

"Cops?" Buffy asked.

"They would be in uniforms if they were police," Harry answered, fiddling with his glasses. "They are vanilla humans, not a demon in the bunch, but the house is warded. Looks like Hermione was more of a witch than my other self-thought."

"Good wards or bad wards?" Buffy asked, "oh, and what are wards?"

"Protective spells cast over an area, usually a home, "he replied, "Giles has some minor ones covering his apartment. These look similar. I'd have to see Hermione's aura to know if she made them but they are good wards. They shouldn't bother us but they also don't help us figure out who these people are."

Harry turned around, placed his left hand on Buffy's shoulder and waved his wand for a few seconds before removing his hand.

"Now they won't perceive us," he said, "we can get a closer look."

"I'm invisible?" Buffy asked, holding her hand in front of her face, "I don't look invisible."

"We can see each other but nobody else can. They can't hear us either."

"Cool," said Buffy still looking at her very visible hand. She gasped and pointedly asked: "you don't use this spell to spy on girls do you?"

"No," he answered, perhaps too quickly, "The stairs to the girls' side of the tower would turn into a slide if a boy, even an invisible boy, tried to climb them."

"So you tried?"

"We tried to go tell Hermione something," he said, a ghost of a smile touching his face, "and we weren't trying to peep or invisible."

"Perv," Buffy replied, laughing, with a light swat to his shoulder.

"I suppose I shouldn't bring up the potion that allows someone to change their body into another person?" He asked his smile turning into a smirk, "All it needs is a–"

Harry stilled as a pair of headlights appeared at the end of the street. The car, a black Bentley, parked in front of the SUVs, only about ten yards away from Harry and Buffy. One of the men patrolling the yard rushed to it, opening the back door and standing at attention.

An older man, dressed in a suit with an overcoat, stepped out of the open door and murmured something to the man at attention, before walking past him. He was a fairly uninteresting looking man, average height, graying hair that had receded several inches from his forehead and an equally graying goatee. Buffy recognized him immediately.

"Travers," she growled, moving towards him intending to give him a piece of her mind.

Harry chased after, grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Having their leader attacked by an invisible enemy would be counterproductive," he said, somewhat scoldingly, pointing to Travers, "You know him? How?"

Buffy scowled at Travers but didn't move to confront him. "He's in charge of the Watcher's Council," she said, staring daggers at Travers, "and a colossal asshole."

"So the muscle here are part of the council," Harry said pointing to the men in the yard. He chuckled, "Hermione's parents must be members. We're going to want to hear what he say, come on but no confrontations."

Harry hurried after Travers. With a short huff, Buffy followed. Travers continued towards the house. Just before he reached the porch, one of the men guarding the door approached him

"Sir, the premise is secure as are Councilwoman Granger and her husband," he said, "we have nothing new to report about their missing daughter."

"No leads?" asked Travers, "What about the boyfriend?"

"The Granger's contacted him when she didn't come home," the guard said, "He claimed to not know where she was and they believed him. I sent our nearest operatives to check their house out, just in case."

"Good, I want regular updates on the progress at the Potters' home," he replied, "I'm going to meet with the Grangers."

The man still standing next to the door opened it and Travers entered, closing the door behind him.

"I don't suppose we can open the door without them noticing?" Buffy asked Harry.

"Not likely," he replied with a sly grin, "but we can walk through the closed door."

He pulled his wand out and pointed it at the door with a twist of his wrist. The door shimmered for a moment and he walked through it like a ghost.

For a moment, Buffy just stared at the door. She approached it, looking even closer and hesitantly poking her finger at it. Her finger moved through the door like it wasn't there. She pulled her hand back and moved to walk through it when Harry's face suddenly emerged from the door, inches from her own.

"You coming?" he asked, his grin returning.

His face disappeared into the door before she could respond. She shook her head and walked confidently through it, finding herself in a library like living room. Bookshelves lined the walls and two large leather sofas formed an L along the room with a small television set in the corner. A couple sat, holding hands, on one sofa, Travers sat on the other. Harry stood behind Travers, staring at the couple with a frown until Travers' voice took his attention.

"We are doing everything we can to find your daughter," he said, sounding like he truly cared, "are you sure there isn't anyone who might wish her harm? I can't see an enemy of the counsel targeting her. We keep information on our membership in the strictest of confidence."

"Hermione's only enemies are other students jealous of her marks," her father replied, "they wouldn't have the skills or will to kidnap her."

"No problem's with the boyfriend?" asked Travers.

"No," replied the woman, somewhat forcefully, "Harry wouldn't hurt a fly."

Harry let out a single barking laugh at that, shaking his head, his eyes downcast.

"And he was quite shocked when we phoned him, looking for her," added her father.

"Forgive me for asking," Travers said, holding up a placating hand, "but one has to start with the most common probabilities. And in cases like this, the boyfriend–"

"We're not going to get anything important from this conversation," said Harry, speaking over Travers, not that the older man could hear him, "what we need is upstairs."

Harry made his way up the stairs with Buffy close behind. At the top, he walked past two doors, stopping at the next and waving his wand in front of it. He walked through the closed door.

Buffy followed and found herself in a small bedroom. Like the living room, bookshelves lined the walls though instead of leather couches it had a twin bed and desk. Harry stood in front of the desk, rummaging through one of the drawers.

"Ah-ha!" He exclaimed, holding a hairbrush over his head.

"You know," Buffy said, "I have a few of those at home."

"You might," he replied, pulling a clump of hair from the brush and holding it up, "but your brushes have Buffy hair in them and I need some Hermione hair."

"You're not going to be making that pervy potion?" She asked, holding her hand in front of her mouth pretending to be scandalized.

"No, I'm going to track her using her hair," he replied, "if I really wanted to perv out I could use the locks of hair I have of my Hermione. Tracking spells are dead useful so we kept a stash of our hair on hand for emergencies."

"That might not be a bad idea for the gang," said Buffy, "Though I wish you hadn't told me what else you can do with the hair."

"We could use blood. It can't be used for that potion." Harry said, walking towards the door. "We can do this spell anywhere so we can get out of here."

Once out of the room, they headed down the stairs. Harry was just about to recast the spell that allowed them to walk through the door when it opened rapidly. Harry jumped out of the way, barreling backward into Buffy. She caught him but stumbled into the wall with a thump. One of the door guards entered as Buffy and Harry frantically looked to the occupants of the room to see if it had been heard.

Thankfully, either the spell hiding them extended to bumping the walls or the guard's entrance took their attention. None of them looked in Harry and Buffy's direction.

"Sir, our team just reported in from the Potter's. It looks like there was an incident there," the guard said, "when they arrived, they found several police cars and a fire truck surrounding a burnt out van across the street from the residence. Our team couldn't approach but the home looked deserted, and the police seemed to be avoiding it."

"Tell them to pull back to a safe distance and watch," Travers replied, command lacing his voice, "and mobilize a search team to the area. I want every inch combed when the police leave."

"Did you burn the van?" Buffy asked, pulling Harry's attention from Travers.

"Not exactly on purpose," answered Harry, shaking his head slightly, "I cast a small flame to dust an incapacitated vampire but the blood of his demon partner turned out to be flammable. Instant fireball."

"You were busy on your last trip," she said.

"Don't worry, the busy part of this trip is about to start," Harry replied with a dark grin, "come on, we've work to do."

A quick recast of the walkthrough door spell and they were out of the house and into the night.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Short Chapter but the next will be much longer. Apologies in advanced for Hermione haters but the next two are Hermione heavy.

Hermione Granger groggily regained consciousness, shivering cold. Had she fallen asleep above the covers? She almost always read before bed and occasionally nodded off when reading something particularly dry, not that she would admit that. She reached over to where she kept a cozy quilt for just such a possibility and her hand struck something metal, sounding with an off-tune ring.

Realizing she wasn't actually in her own bed swept the sleep from her oddly foggy mind. Her eyes shot open as she rose to a sitting position with a start. She found herself in the corner of a long, narrow room lit only by a couple of tiny electric lights hanging from the corrugated ceiling. Even by those dim lights, she could see that she was not alone. Several young women and children sat huddled together along the walls of the far end of the room, a few of them quietly sobbing and almost all of them hiding from Hermione's gaze.

"Good, you're awake," came a lyrical feminine voice directly to her left, "you should drink something, it will help."

Hermione flinched and turned towards the voice, finding an unnaturally beautiful girl with purple skin, small black horns curling out of her temples and curly lime green hair. She held out a water bottle. Hermione flinched back upon seeing the demon girl, causing her pretty purple face to fall before Hermione reached out and accepted the water bottle.

"Sorry about that, you just startled me," Hermione said, trying to remember from her parent's books what species the girl was, unfortunately, her mind was still foggy, "thank you for the water. Can you tell me where I am?"

"I don't really know," the demon girl answered, shaking her head, "I woke up here, maybe a few hours ago, to the sounds of screaming. Whoever kidnapped us took my glamour ring and I don't thing the others here had ever seen a demon in their true form. You aren't scared though."

"I've known of the supernatural world for a long time," Hermione replied, tilting her head trying to concentrate, "I don't remember being kidnapped but my mind feels… tired."

"I don't remember either but I think they drugged us," the demon said, "I was awake when they dropped you here though. Two men came in, one was carrying you and the other had a gun. One of them smelled like death. I think you are special though because the one who carried you told the other to 'inform the crew she was off limits.'"

"I don't like the sound of that," she said, looking at the group of people on the other side of the room, noticing a toddler crying in the arms of a scantily clad young teenage girl. Hermione might have lived a relatively privileged, if somewhat sheltered, life but she realized what the kidnappers had in store for these girls, why someone would kidnap a group of them.

Taking another gulp of water, Hermione shakily stood, keeping a hand on the wall for balance. She shook her head, willing whatever drugs were still in her system to fade with mixed effects. She thought her mind was clearer, but she had no way to measure it.

"Ok everyone," she said loudly, "we need to figure out how to get out of here. Is there anything here we can use to escape or even fight back?"

Nobody answered her with anything other than renewed sobbing. After a few moments, the demon girl stood and turned to her.

"They're too scared and they all saw the guy with the gun when they brought you here," she said, "I'll try to help but I don't know what I can do to help."

Hermione sagged at that. She had hoped to rally the rest of them because she knew nothing good would come from staying. At least she had one person helping her and if they got away, she would try to help the others too. Even if they were too scared to help themselves, they didn't deserve this. Nobody did.

"Thanks," she said to the demon girl, holding her hand out, "I'm Hermione by the way."

"Chloe," the girl answered, taking Hermione's hand, "so… any ideas how to get out."

Hermione scanned the room from top to bottom. Just like the ceiling, the walls were corrugated metal. Turning around, she studied the short wall of the room and found a seam in the middle. The whole side was a double door but she couldn't find a handle or latch. It must only lock from the outside.

She was starting to form a hypothesis about their location but she needed more information. Pushing herself away from the wall she stood in between them, eyes closed, feeling for vibrations. She felt them after a few moments, confirming her theory. They were moving and given she couldn't feel much motion at all, it was likely they were in the water. If they in the back of a moving truck it would be loud, bumpy and they would feel the motion, especially the turns.

This room must be a shipping container. Hermione had never been in one, or even that close to one, but she had seen container ships from a distance. They usually had several rows of containers piled on top of each other though Chloe had said the men brought her here so they were likely on the deck where they could easily be found.

"When they opened the doors to bring me here did you see how they arrived?" she asked Chloe, "did they walk in, climb up or down?"

"They walked in but it was dark outside. I didn't see much," she said, apologetically, "I am sure they walked through."

"Good," Hermione said, "but we still need to get through this door, first."

Hermione studied the door, trying to think of a way through. Not knowing the specifics of these types of containers, she didn't know how or where the door latched. She pushed on the door in several places but it didn't give at all. It must be latched in several places. Moving to the corner she knocked on the door and the wall, finding that the wall sounded thinner. That could help.

"You wouldn't happen to be super strong?" she asked, turning to Chloe.

Chloe blushed and shook her head. "I might be a bit stronger than a normal human," she replied, "but not strong enough to break down the door or the wall."

"Damn," replied Hermione, shaking her head at her own language for once.

She went through the spells she had read about in her mind, searching for anything that could aid their escape. The only unlocking spell she read about required the pickled hand of an executed murderer, not something she had or would ever want to have. She knew and had experimented with fire spells but even if she could create the heat required to melt the door, being inside the shipping container, it would cook them like an oven before the steel melted.

Alchemy could be used to transmute metals. She had read a book about it and was itching to try some of what she read but it required tools and reagents she lacked.

Hopelessness started to invade Hermione's thoughts. She slapped the wall in frustration, scuffing her hand on a patch of rust. Rust! Rust could eat through metal. She hadn't read about any spell that could rust metal or even increase the speed that it rusted but that didn't mean it wouldn't work.

After her initial experiments using the incantations and hand movements for the flame spell, she had tried to light a candle without them. Some of the books said a witch could perform the spell without the ritual using only force of mind and will. This took more power, but she figured it was an exercise for her mind and Hermione Granger wasn't one to shy away from that.

The first attempt to light a candle with just the force of her will ended with a slightly singed wick, a splitting headache, and a bloody nose. Further attempts, after she recovered, produced better results with much less pain and little to no blood. She theorized that she could create a much bigger flame, but she lacked a safe place to try it, though she had created larger flames while taking a shower once, deciding that the water would make it safer.

If she could conjure flames without words or hand waves, she could rust the side of a shipping container. She hoped.

Finding the rust again, Hermione placed both hands over it, closing her eyes and regulated her breath. In. Out. In. Out. Every breath she took, she fixated on one thought: Rust. Rust eating the metal her hands pressed against, spreading out like a drop of soap in greasy water, crumbling to dust under her power.

In. Out. Pushing all the power she dare use, her hands moved forward. She lost her concentration as she stumbled forward catching herself before she hit her head. Eyes now wide open she stared at her handiwork. A large blotch of rust, vaguely shaped like her hands, covered about four feet of the wall extending out from where she focused her power. Even better, her hands had pushed a hole through the corroded wall.

Panting, she turned to Chloe, smiling. The demon girl looked between her and the hole in the wall quickly before breaking out in her own wide smile.

"I didn't know you were a witch," she said before frowning and pointing to Hermione's face, "you're bleeding"

Hermione wiped under her nose, finding blood. She frowned as well. That had taken a lot of power.

"I'm fine. I just need to rest a few minutes," she said, resting against the wall, "adversity is the best teacher."

Chloe moved to the hole pulling the sleeve of her hoody over her hand and using it to enlarge the hole.

"We have a problem," she said, pointing to the hole.

Hermione looked through the hole, seeing for herself: the wall of another storage unit stood less than a foot past the hole.

…

Buffy held onto Harry for dear life, trying not to squeeze too hard, as they flew over London on his magical broomstick of all things. A glowing compass floating above the tip of the broom held most of Harry's attention, his eyes leaving it only when they flew too close to a building or aircraft and Harry jerked the broom away, avoiding the obstacles.

The golden arrow on the compass pointed to their left, but the needle jerked around wildly. When Harry had cast the tracking charm using the hair he took from Hermione's brush, he explained that the spell needed more points of reference so they had been flying in seemingly random directions and the arrow slowly started pointing somewhere.

"Not that I'm complaining… You know, I am complaining," Buffy said in a normal voice, Harry had 'spelled the broom to all easy conversation' so it didn't sound like they were moving at a hundred miles an hour. "how much longer is this going to take?"

"Soon," Harry replied.

He had become more monosyllabic since they left Hermione's house. Buffy assumed most of it was his focus on the task at hand, but she knew dealing with this whole almost family situation and the possibility of losing a person he cared about, again, even though it wasn't really the same person had to be hurting him. It hurt her head just trying to make sense of multiple universes.

She wondered if there was a version of her in Harry's world or more likely used to be. She doubted asking Harry about it would help his mood or shed light on the question. If Harry knew her other version, if one existed, he would have mentioned it before.

"I'm getting a fix," said Harry, turning the broom in an arc, "hold on."

Harry's voice broke her from her thoughts, thoughts she realized she let run wild to distract herself from their precarious position. A distraction she lacked when Harry somehow made the broom go even faster. His turn became sharper and he brought the broom into a dive leveling out about 10 feet above a wide river, weaving between the boats.

She might have screamed in Harry's ear at some point but he certainly deserved it.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Apologies for the long time between updates. I've been focusing my writing time on projects I can monetize. The good news is I've had 95% of this story complete, at least the current arc. If I have the time, I plan to try and keep it going, but time seems to be a fleeting resource. This is a long chapter, mainly because I couldn't for the life of me figure out a good place to break it up.**

After a half-hour break and a bottle of water, Hermione was ready to continue. She had decided to try and better focus the rust into a smaller area to conserve her energy. One bloody nose was enough.

Moving her hands through the hole, she placed it on the wall of the next container, concentrating on rust again but only on the rust eating through the metal, not on it spreading. This time she kept her eyes open to watch the process.

After a few seconds, she pulled back to look at the results. The wall looked as if she had made handprints in rust colored ink except for the first two fingers on her left hand. The rust there was much darker. Looking at her hands, Hermione theorized why. The blood she wiped from her nose stained those fingers.

Eyes wide with a new idea, she turned to a Chloe.

"I have an odd question," she said shyly, "your horns, how sharp are they? Could they break the skin?"

"I guess. I try not to poke anyone with them, especially when I wear a glamour."

"They aren't poisonous, are they?"

"I'm a Korkra demon," she answered, her yes narrowing, "we don't produce poison like some Boretz demon."

"Sorry," replied Hermione, holding up her left hand, "I meant no offense, I just wanted you to cut my palm if you could, assuming it was safe."

"You want me to cut you, Why?"

"Look at the wall," answered Hermione, pointing to the rust marks, "it works better where my fingers were stained with blood. It might strengthen the magic, hasten our escape."

"If it will help our escape, I'll try."

Hermione offered her left hand which Chloe tentatively took hold of and brought to one of her horns, scrapping it across the point. She stopped when Hermione hissed in pain.

"Its ok, I knew it would hurt," Hermione said, rubbing her hands together to spread the blood, "I just didn't expect it to hurt that much,"

Placing them on the wall again, she closed her eyes and concentrated on rust eating the steel, pushing her energy through her hands. She did this for several seconds before pulling away and opening her eyes, inspecting the progress.

A swiss cheese of cracked rust covered the areas where her hands pressed against the metal, ready to crumble at the slightest touch. The area around it faired little better, they should be able to widen the hole enough to crawl through.

She stepped away from the wall, allowing Chloe to use her sleeve covered hand to clean out the damaged area. Once Chloe finished, Hermione approached the hole, getting a glimpse of the next container. The tiny electric lights offered little illumination so Hermione conjured a light in her left hand.

The amount of light she created nearly blinded her with its intensity, she shielded her eyes for a moment while they adjusted to it. Hermione didn't understand why it came out so bright. She used this spell often as a bedtime reading light, it should have provided just enough light to comfortably read by, not a blinding spotlight.

She uncovered her eyes but still had to squint to see comfortably. When she studied her new light she noticed a smaller light shining from the ground. Pointing her hand away from the floor, accidentally flashing the group of prisoners in the back of the container with it, she knelt down to get a better look at the small light. It was a tiny droplet of liquid light, a droplet of her blood.

Hermione's eyes widened at the discovery, a smile flashing on her face. She relished the discovery that blood could empower her magic and wondered what other discoveries awaited her. Why hadn't her parent's library had anything covering this? Had they hidden knowledge from her? She pondered theses quesitons, a small pit of anger opening in her stomach.

A spike of pain like an ice cream headache jolted through Hermione's temple. She shouldn't have been so eager to experiment with magic like this. Her mother always lectured her on the danger of playing with magic. If they hid knowledge from her, they had good reason to. She knew that. She didn't usually break the rules.

The rules didn't apply when you'd been drugged and kidnapped, she thought and ignored those misgivings. A life or death situation was not the time for such thoughts. Plus, the possibilities were too intriguing to not explore.

She pressed her hand above the hole, leaving a gash pattern of liquid light behind when she moved the hand down to look through the hole.

The next container looked nearly empty, with only three backpacks sitting by the door. Noticing the jagged nature of the holes, she pulled off her jumper and placed it over them. She had seen someone do that to barbed wire in one of the old movies her dad liked to watch.

Once she tested it, she tentatively climbed into the next container, almost tumbling when her foot got caught momentarily between the containers. Another press of her bloody hand left more liquid light, illuminating the new container and allowing Hermione to see a few small crates at the far end.

She turned to provide more light for Chloe only to discover the girl climbing through the hole, aided my the blood trail Hermione didn't notice she left behind. With Chloe out of the hole, Hermione places a few more blood lights.

I'm going to cancel the spell on my hand but hopefully these will still shine," she said, pointing to the lights she left, "if not, I'll recast it so we won't be blind."

Hermione willed the light in her hand to extinguish and it slowly dimmed to nothing. The lights she placed seemed unchanged and she smiled at the new if messy, skill she had discovered.

"I can actually see pretty well in the dark" Chloe said with a smirk, breaking Hermione's revery, "so I'd be fine without them."

Hermione suppressed the questions she had about that to start a thorough search of the container beginning with the nearest backpack. She carefully unzipped it and found it full of large coins. She grabbed a couple, handing one to Chloe, she brought the other closer to the light.

"It's gold!" Chloe gasped.

Hermione studies hers in the light. The first face she saw had an engraving of a deer or antelope with the word Krugerrand above and "Fyngoud 1 oz Fine Gold" below.

"An ounce of gold is somewhere around £450," she said, numbly looking at the pile of duffle bags. She tried to lift he top one but it barely budged, "each one of these weighs at least 100 kilograms. That's £1.5 million per bag!"

Chloe returned to the bag and struggled to pick it up. Dropping it to the floor she grabbed a couple of handfuls and started stuffing her pockets. When she reached back for more, Hermione gently grabbed her hand.

"You won't be able to spend it if we don't get out of here," she chided, "and we won't escape if you leave a trail of gold coins."

Blushing slightly, Chloe dropped the gold and checked her pockets to make sure the gold she had stuffed in them was secure.

"Don't worry about the rest," Hermione said with a smile, grabbing a few more coins herself, "I've no intention of leaving those girls behind and assuming we are on a ship, we might have to fight our way out anyway. If we– no when we do, we'll come back for the gold and split it with all the prisoners. It's the only fair way."

Hermione moved to the crates, flipping the latch and opening the top one. It contained two rows of six military rifles though she didn't know their name. She had seen them in one of her father's films about the Vietnam war. She picked one up and fiddled with the magazine until it clattered to the floor. It was empty but the guns could be useful. Returning the magazine to the gun she turned back to Chloe.

"Take this," she said, holding the gun out, "it's unloaded but they won't know that."

Chloe accepted the gun. Holding it to her shoulder, she pretended to shoot it, mouthing the word bang with every shot while moving it back and forth. She stopped when she noticed Hermione shaking her head at her with a smile.

Hermione slung one of the other rifles over her shoulder before walking to the far wall, opposite the door. As she walked, she squeezed the cut on her left palm to draw more blood, rubbing her hands together to cover them.

"Get ready, Chloe," she said, placing her hands on the wall, "Hopefully, no-one will expect us on this side, but better safe than sorry."

Chloe hurried to stand behind Hermione. She saluted her with a grin spread across her face, then placed the gun back to her shoulder, pointing it at the wall with a scowl.

Closing her eyes, Hermione returned to the task at hand, visualizing rust and willing her power into her hands. They pushed through the now rusted through metal much quicker than the last time. Hermione didn't know if this was caused by having more blood on her hands or if her powers were growing. She hoped for the latter but knew more experimentation would be in order after they were out of danger.

Hermione stepped back, willing a little light to glow from her left hand, pushing just a trickle of her power. A dim light started to glow from her hand, she opened the gates slightly and the light increased to that of a standard lightbulb. She cupped her hand to better direct the light.

Chloe had moved forward and used the barrel of her gun to clean the hole. Pointing her hand through it, Hermione saw that it opened perpendicularly to a hallway lined with storage units. Sticking her hand through, she aimed it down the hallway finding a ladder at the end.

"Looks clear, I'm heading through," she said, climbing over to the hallway, Chloe right behind her.

They made their way to the ladder, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Hermione aimed her light up and then down the ladder. There looked to be only one floor below them and seven above. That meant they had to be deep in the ship. She turned to Chloe, pointing up and started to climb the ladder.

Seven flights (do they call them flights with a ladder, Hermione wondered) were exhausting. Hermione panted as she pulled herself onto the top floor. Each of the floors below were copies of the one she woke up on. She wondered how many of these containers had prisoners, guns or gold in them? How would they get everyone off the ship? More importantly, how would they incapacitate the crew?

Hermione had an idea involving magic, but no way to test it. Plus, her headache, which had faded after the first two times she performed her rust spell (she would have to name her new spell!) didn't fade away after that last push. Odd, as the hole opened so much faster with less effort.

Regardless, she would use more magic soon. A lot more, she suspected. Her headache would get worse but it would be worth it if she got the prisoners, and herself, to safety. Adding another unknown spell seemed like tempting fate.

Instead of a long hallway lined with containers, the top floor had a short hallway in the opposite direction with a closed, rounded corner, steel door. The hallway was unlit but a small window in the door added a dim glow.

Hermione stood slowly and walked to the door, peeking out the window. Behind the door, a long hallway, lit by small fluorescent lights at regular intervals spread in both directions. She couldn't see anyone, but the small size of the window and thickness of the door limited her field of vision.

Before opening the door she turned to look at Chloe. The demon girl sat in the corner fiddling with her gun, giving it her full attention. Her hands shook as they worked.

"Chloe," Hermione said, placing her hand on the girl's shoulder and looking her in the eyes, "I know you are scared. I'm scared. I've never been this scared but we are the only hope those girls down there have. The only hope we have."

Hermione knelt down to be at eye level with Chloe who looked like she was about to cry.

"I'll understand if you can't go on if you are too scared. You can go back to the container or find a place to hide if you like. I won't think any less of you," Hermione spoke softly, "but our chances will be much better if we do this together. Nobody knows where we are. The only rescue we can count on is ourselves."

Chloe almost leaped, dropping her gun and surprising Hermione with a crushing hug, crying on her shoulder.

"I'd still be stuck in that container waiting for whatever fate the bastards that kidnapped us had in store for me," she whispered in Hermione's ear, "even if we don't make it out of here, you saved me from that. I can never repay that. I'm with you to the end of this."

Hermione held the hug for a moment longer before pulling back and offering Chloe a slight smile.

"I'm glad," she said, standing and offering Chloe her hand.

Once they were both up and read, Hermione opened the door and peeked out, getting her first full view of the hallway. It only extended the length of a storage container in one direction but it went on for at least a hundred meters in the other with closed doorways along their side at regular intervals. Thankfully, Hermione could see no one.

Hermione silently stepped into the hallway, pointing her gun down the longer direction, Chloe entered behind her, gun at the ready. They slowly crept down the hallway, listening for the sounds of other people. A few moments later they reached the first doorway. Peaking through the window, Hermione found a dark room she assumed was an access way to more containers.

The next three doors were the same, but just as they were passing the third, they heard footsteps and faint voices ahead. Hermione looked around in panic for a moment before opening the door and pulling Chloe though. She shut it as slowly, listening to the foot falls get closer.

"I think we should let them pass and then pop out the door with our guns drawn. I'll be ready with a fire spell too, whispered Hermione, "hopefully they won't realize we have no bullets and give up."

Chloe nodded and they waited, listening to the sounds getting closer. There were two distinct voices in conversation with each other.

"All I'm saying is they should have put the girls closer to the tower," one of the voices said when they were close enough to hear, "or even just stash the food for them much closer. We are going to be schlepping food for forty whores every other day until we hit Mogadishu."

"Every other day?" Said the other voice with a laugh, "this is your first time working under Collins, isn't it? That bastard never lifts his own finger when he can make one of his men do it for him. We're going to be doing this every day for the next few weeks."

"Bastard," the first replied, his shadow passing by the window they were behind, "there are only four of us in security, we should share the burden."

"Careful, that sounds like communism," said the second voice, "the senior partners are firm believers in might makes right. You don't want to rock the boat. Get it?"

Hermione eases the door open as quietly as possible and stepped into the hallway, Chloe close behind. The voices belonged to two men walking about 10 feet down the hallway, their backs to her. One carried a large sack over his shoulder and the other had a rifle in his hands.

"Freeze," she said loudly, trying to add authority to her voice, "we've got you both covered, drop the gun and we won't shoot."

The men froze momentarily, shared a look with each other and turned around.

"I see two little girls," said the man holding the bag, he sniffed deeply, "two little girls who smell like fear. You've never shot a gun in your lives."

"He's a vampire," Chloe whispered, "they have little to fear from bullets."

Hermione knew that bullets would be near useless against a vampire and had already moved her left hand off the rifle, thoughts of fireballs running through her mind.

"I said freeze!" Hermione commanded, lacing a trickle of her energy into a more authoritative voice.

It worked for a moment. Both men stopped moving and the armed man lowered his rifle. After that moment, the vampire shook himself out of it. He stared at Hermione with hate in his eyes.

"Nobody controls me, witch bitch!" He screamed, his face morphing into its demon form.

The vampire threw his bag at Hermione. She ducked and it sailed over her, clipping Chloe in the shoulder and knocking her to the ground.

By the time Hermione stood straight again, the vampire moved right in front of her. He grabbed her by the neck, choking her.

"Nobody controls me!" He repeated, slamming Hermione into the wall.

Hermione fought to remain conscious, trying to pry the vampire's hand from her throat. As her vision darkened, she slapped her left hand against the vampire's chest, sending her energy into it, thinking nothing but fire.

Flames burst from her hand, eating through the vampire. He dropped her with a scream as it quickly consumed his body. She remained on the ground, catching her breath while watching the vampire's dust rain to the ground. She had killed her first vampire, she thought with a smile.

The armed man hadn't moved since she had commanded him to freeze. Chloe stood, rubbing her shoulder. Hermione waited until she had her gun up and ready again before she approached the other man.

His eyes darted back and forth, focusing on Hermione. Just before she reached him, the spell broke and he started to raise the gun. Hermione grabbed the barrel in a panic, thoughts of rust in her head. The gun rusted over, crumbling in the man's hands as a woozy Hermione fell to her knees

The shocked man stared at the rust in his hands as the magazine fell apart and the bullets rained to the ground. He raised his leg to kick Hermione but before he could, Chloe swung her rifle into his face, knocking him out. His limp body spun and fell onto Hermione.

Chloe rolled him off of her and knelt down, examining Hermione.

"Are you ok?" Chloe asked. "Can you breath?"

"I'll be fine," replied Hermione, her voice scratchy, "that could have gone better, but we both survived."

"You are bleeding again," Chloe pointed towards Hermione's nose, "you shouldn't push yourself like that. You could cause permanent damage."

"I didn't have much choice," Hermione said, her voice returning to normal, "but we have some bullets now, so maybe I won't need to keep using magic."

Chloe collected the bullets that fell from the rusted gun then searched the unconscious man and found another magazine. While Hermione recovered, she tied his hands using the strap for his rifle and did the same to his legs with his belt, finally dragging him through the nearest door that led to the containers below, shutting him in.

Hermione stood, shakily, holding the wall for support when Chloe returned.

"We've taken out two of them, and we have bullets now," she said, "if we get the other two, the crew won't have a security force."

"Are you feeling better?" Chloe asked, looking at her with concern in her eyes.

"My headache is almost gone," she lied.

"I'm glad," Chloe said with a slight smile, holding out a handful of bullets, "we should both have some."

"Good thinking," Hermione said, taking the bullets and loading her gun's magazine, "I'd rather not kill anyone unless there is another vampire, but it is best to be prepared."

Hermione moved to where the slightly singed bag the vampire was carrying fell, unzipping the top, finding it full of bottled water and granola bars. She took a couple of bars and a bottle, offering them to Chloe.

"No thank you," said the demon girl, "I'd just throw up if I tried to eat now, too nervous."

"I can understand, but I'm just so hungry," Hermione replied, attacking the wrapper of a granola bar.

She finished off four of them, finding herself incredibly hungry and downed a bottle of water before they continued down the hallway. After passing a couple of more doors down to the hold, they found a door with both the ladder down to the hold and a steep staircase up to a closed hatch.

"So," started Chloe, after they stood at the door for a few seconds, "should we go up or keep going this way?"

"I'm trying to decide," replied Hermione, staring at the door. "It could lead outside, so we could get a better idea where we are, but we could end up being out in the open."

"Maybe it is night time," Chloe said, "we would be harder to see in the dark but I wouldn't have a problem."

"Ok, Keep your eyes open."

Hermione climbed the stairs and turned the wheel of the hatch, motioning for Chloe to get ready before she lifted the hatch slowly. A gust of cool air entered through the hatch as the low rumble of far off engines and the sound of water lapping against the side of the ship could be heard.

She stuck her head up, quickly scanning around. Chloe was right, night had fallen. Containers rose from both sides of the hatch but to the front, it met a walkway at the edge of the ship. Beyond the guardrail, Hermione saw the water, further still she saw lights from the land.

"I can see land!" she excitedly whispered to Chloe, "We might still be in England."

Neither seeing, not hearing anyone else, Hermione opened the hatch completely and climbed out of it, continuing to scan her surroundings. Behind the hatch, she could see a walkway with a guard rail at the end of a shipping container canyon.

Once Chloe joined her, she shut the hatch but did not latch it, moving to the corner of the nearest container. She peeked around the edge to get a better look at the back part of the ship. Four blocks of containers, three high rose above the deck with the bridge looming over the last block. She could see movement though the windows of the bridge but couldn't determine how many people were up there.

Chloe peeked her head out as well, looking both ways.

"The only people I see are up there," she said quietly, pointing to the bridge, "since it is night, maybe most of them are asleep."

"I hope so. Let's head towards the bridge tower," said Hermione, "I'm not certain, but I'd imagine the crew quarters are there."

They slinked down the walkway, speeding by the occasional lit areas, staying in the dark as much as possible. Thankfully, they ran into no-one else as they reached the first door into the tower. Here, they couldn't avoid the light.

Hermione moved to the door, peeking in the small window, finding a well-lit hallway lined with doors, opening into an open area. Seeing nobody inside, she opened the door and entered, holding the door open for Chloe, closing it after her. They stood in silence for a moment, listening carefully. Hearing nothing, they continued to the first door, noticing the label next to it: Passenger Room 1.

Hermione tried the door, finding it unlocked. She pushed it open slowly while Chloe stood on the other side, gun ready. Chloe looked into the dark room and shook her head.

"Empty," she whispered.

Nodding, Hermione moved to the next door: Passenger Room 2 and they opened the door in the same way, though Chloe's eyes widened when she looked into the dark room.

"Man in the bed," she whispered, pointing, "and there is a gun on the table."

"Grab the gun and find the light," Hermione whispered, entering the room, "flip it on my signal."

Chloe tiptoed past Hermione into the room, returning with a rifle identical to the ones they carried setting it against the wall. Hermione shut the door, readying her rifle and nodded to Chloe, squinting in anticipation of the light.

Once Chloe flipped it, Hermione focused on the man in the bed, aiming her gun at him and waited for him to move. He didn't and that flummoxed her but also made her realize she didn't have much of a plan to begin with, unusual for Hermione but this whole escape her kidnappers situation was unusual in its self. 'Wake up sleeping thug by gunpoint' was as far as she went with the only plan she had, but what next? Tie him up? Knock him out?

Shaking her head, Hermione looked to Chloe hoping the other girl had an idea, but she just shrugged. Hermione looked around the room for an idea. It looked like a dorm room with a small bed, desk and a couple of chairs but nothing helpful.

She had frozen the man earlier with a magic laced command but the after effects of that still throbbed around her head, maybe she could seal the door instead? She ushered Chloe out of the room, grabbing the gun leaning against the wall and gently closing the door.

Squeezing her left hand to reopen the cut, she placed it on the door and visualized the latch fusing with the door jam while trickling power to it. After a moment, she stopped and checked the door. The handle wouldn't turn. She smiled at learning another spell.

"I locked him in," she whispered, turning to Chloe and finding the demon girl frowning at her.

"With magic again" Chloe replied, a frown on her face, "it is too dangerous to keep using it."

"I only used a little, not even a headache," she said, wiping her finger under her nose, showing the lack of blood, "and no nose bleed."

Chloe gave her a stern look but said nothing. They moved on and found the rest of the floor currently uninhabited. Returning to the open area in the middle, they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

This floor was much smaller as the back third of the lower floor was an outdoor balcony. Inside, an open lounge area took up one side with doors labeled as restrooms and showers on the other. Two doors labeled Crew Shift 1 and Crew Shift 2 were to the front.

"I'm going to seal those doors," Hermione whispered, pointing to the crew shift doors.

Chloe opened her mouth to protest but quickly closed it. Shen followed Hermione to the first door, pointing her gun at it.

With her eyes closed in concentration, Hermione placed her hand on the door handle, sealing it like the room on the first floor. She tested the door after, finding it stuck and moved to the next door.

Right as Hermione reached for the handle to seal the next door, it opened inward. Bang! Hermione's ears rang at the deafening noise echoing through the room. Turning towards the source she found Chloe, shock painted on her face, limply holding her rifle.

A large tanned man wearing boxers and a tank-top stumbled back from the door holding his hands to his belly as blood seeped between his fingers. He fell to his knees with a thud before going limp and leaning back.

Further inside the room, several men lying in bunks stacked up the walls were getting up, woken by the noise. Hermione grabbed the door handle, slamming it and sealing it with magic. The ship's horn started blasting in short bursts.

Hermione grabbed Chloe's arm, pulling her back towards the stairs. Behind them, the men sealed in their quarters tried to break down the doors.

When they reached the stairs, another loud bang sounded and sparks rose from a spot on the floor at Hermione's feet. On the stairs coming down from the next level stood a man holding a smoking pistol. Hermione reacted instantly, holding down the trigger.

Her gun sounded with the rat-a-tat of a demonic snare drum, echoing around the metal walls of the ship. The butt slammed into her shoulder with every shot. From the recoil, the gun twisting up and out of her hands, falling silent and hanging limp from the shoulder strap. The man with the pistol fell backward and slid to a stop on the steps, blood pouring from several wounds.

Hermione quickly turned away from him, pulling Chloe towards the stairs going down. They stopped abruptly when a heavyset man wearing blue coveralls appeared at the bottom of the stairs holding a fire ax.

Fumbling for her gun, Hermione readied it and pointed it at the man when he'd reached halfway up the stairs. At the jerk of her gun, he stopped, staring at her with murder in his eyes. She jerked the gun again before quickly looking back, pushing Chloe towards the balcony door with her shoulder.

The man inched forward causing Hermione to stop backing up and jerking the gun again. She scowled at him, trying to match his murderous expression. He stilled again and she followed Chloe out the balcony door.

Slamming it, she smeared her left hand against it, willing it to seal. Likely, only a short delay as a large window sat next to the door, but she figured every second counted.

Dawn had begun to break allowing Hermione to see better in its dim light. She ran towards one of the sides of the balcony, looking for an escape, with Chloe not far behind. They reached the edge and found a life raft launcher, quickly looking at each other in the eyes.

"We can't leave without the others," Chloe said, shaking her head.

Hermione only nodded, before another shot pierced the silence. She ducked down but Chloe spun and fell, slamming her head against the guard rail. Falling to the floor, she landed, dazed and on her gun. She held her now bleeding shoulder.

Reacting with immediacy, Hermione spun, shooting in the direction she shot came from but after only two shots, the gun clicked empty.

"She's out!" yelled a voice from the now broken window.

"No shooting the merchandise!" yelled another voice in an accent Hermione couldn't recognize, "They are worth more than all of you and you know what Wolfram and Hart will do if we damage them"

Pulling the gun strap over her head, Hermione let it fall to the ground. She spared a glance at Chloe while she used her fingernails to reopen the wound on her left hand. Chloe looked dazed but still held her hand over the bullet wound.

Hermione jogged halfway towards the broken window, shaking her hand to splatter her blood over the deck. She retreated back to Chloe and watched as men began to come through the window onto the balcony. The first, an ugly bald man with a patchy grey beard, stuck his head out the window, finding the girls at the far side, he snarled at them, never taking his eyes off Hermione while he climbed onto the balcony.

She paid less attention to the others as they entered, concentrating on her plan, or lack thereof she thought. All she needed was a little more time and for them to walk over the droplets of her blood.

Soon, half a dozen scary looking men started inching towards Hermione. Behind them, an old asian man holding a revolver pointed to the sky, urged them forward as more men continued through the window.

"Give up, girl!" the old man said in stilted english, "You are out of bullets and if you try to escape with the raft, we send a boat after you."

"Listen to the captain, bitch!" yelled the bald man, "We ain't going to kill you, but the longer you draw this out, the worse your punishment is going to be."

Hermione waited, staring at the advancing men with a snarl on her face, breathing heavily. Just a few more feet.

"Or don't," said the bald man with a laugh, "maybe you will even start to enjoy your punishment after a while."

A few of the others lewdly laughed at that as they advanced past the furthest flung spots of blood. The group took two more steps, stopping abruptly when Hermione started to laugh in an almost cackle. Witches can cackle if they want to, she thought, shaking her head.

"The gun wasn't my only weapon," she said softly, wiping her hands together.

With a quick flick of the wrist, she turned her palms towards the group. "BURN!" she screamed

Streams of fire erupted from her hands at the same moment the blood drops on the deck burst into flames, each one a small flair. The men on fire panicked, two tried to jump back from the flames only to trip over each other and fall to the ground. They landed on the flaming blood drops and rolled to try and quench the fire, though it could not be extinguished.

The others successfully jumped back, including the bald man, who kicked off his shoe when he couldn't stamp out the flame on its sole.

Hermione's head felt as if it were seconds from bursting, her rapid pulse flashing through her temples with every frantic beat. She had no more power left to push into her flames and they started to die. Closing her eyes she tried to find another power source but her thoughts moved like molasses.

The sun appeared from the clouds. As low in the sky as it was, she still sensed its heat, giving her an idea: ambient heat. Moving energy had to be easier than creating energy, she thought, a smile on her face at her innovative metaphysical solution. Envisioning the ambient heat of the area powering her flames, she spread her hands again, pointing at the men. A chill ran through her while creaks sounded around her and each of her heavy gasps came out fogged.

Huge clouds of white hot flames shot from her hands. The drops of blood on the deck burst with jets of matching white flame. The ship lurched, tilting towards the bow and Hermione fell to her knees, her spell faltering. The men who survived her initial flames, save for the captain, didn't escape this one. Hermione looked quickly past their charred remains falling to the deck, her vision darkening. The captain stood beyond the scorched area, a couple of latecomers cowered behind him.

The captain took a step forward, watching Hermione warily, then another. Hermione used all her strength just to keep on her knees with her eyes open, somewhat focused. The edge of her vision darkened.

"I should thank you," he said mockingly, stepping closer, "Now I have fewer men to pay when I sell you and your friends. You make me rich."

Hermione raised her shaking left hand slowly, pain shooting through her arm with every movement. The captain stopped, eyes widening. Her headache returned as a spike of pain behind her eyes. Wincing in pain, her arm fell to her side. His mocking smile returning as he kept moving forward while Hermione's eyes drooped.

A loud crack sounded and a gust of wind hit Hermione's face. She opened her eyes, seeing a leather coat in her vision, too close for her to see who wore it.

"I'm going to give you choi…" a familiar voice stated, "actually, no I don't have time for that."

Hermione's vision flashed red and the man turned around, looking at her with his eyes wide in panic while he dropped to her side.

"Harry?" she asked, her exhausted mind having realized who he was before she passed out.

 **A/N: Please don't hate me for the cliffhanger or the lack of Harry in this section. I've always hated damsels in distress so I wanted to show Hermione's dangerous attempt at escape before Harry and Buffy showed up. I know the few Hermione Haters will not be pleased.**


End file.
